


the day i first met you (you told me you'd never fall in love)

by Vod_kanino



Category: Marvel
Genre: Awkwardness, Damn, Day 2, Day 7, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Like, M/M, Mutual Pining, SUPER LATE, Spideytorch Week 2020, but meant for day 2, friendship is just broke therapy change my mind, i love them, posted on day 7, technically, they're so stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vod_kanino/pseuds/Vod_kanino
Summary: “He’s got a crush.”Peter blanked. “MJ! That’s—” Peter turned his head away from Ned’s gaping face and MJ’s smug grin. “No!” He groaned.“So,” MJ’s grin widened. “Who’s got you all mushy?”“Yeah man, I thought we were cool. Why didn’t you tell me you had a crush?”
Relationships: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Comments: 28
Kudos: 252
Collections: SpideyTorch Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi  
> this is, uhh, my first post on Ao3 lol  
> i hope this measures up to all the other works i've read on this site like  
> i'm pretty new to this but  
> hope you enjoy anyway
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: mention of sensory overloads/panic attacks  
>  i placed a triple asterisk just in case  
> idk if it's rlly that bad but i don't wanna take any risks and i wouldn't want you to risk a trigger just for the fic  
> if you feel that you are uncomfortable and/or unnerved by it, please skip ahead to the next triple asterisk.**
> 
> on with the show :D

The Statue of Liberty was peaceful. Peter felt so free on top of it, like he could just. Let go. No villains, no parents-who-weren’t-really-parents-but-kinda-parents, and no Jameson, thankfully. He could just stare at the clouds. Keyword: could. He was definitely thinking about everything, but the Statue would’ve been a great place to relax if he weren’t.

In his peripherals, he saw the Human Torch flying towards him. He wondered if the Fantastic Four needed him for a team-up, or if the Torch wanted to have a match. _Whatever it was_ , Peter decided, _it’s gonna be a hassle._

The temperature suddenly rose, so Peter figured he was coming closer. He foraged his brain for some witty line he could use. _C’mon, saying something cool_. “Did you know a part of the Statue of Liberty was designed by the same guy who designed the Eiffel Tower?” _Way to go, Parker_.

The Torch, _Johnny Storm_ , laughed. “Didn’t take you for a nerd, Spidey.” 

“You know, I’m not even offended. Being a nerd is cool. It’s groovy. It’s—”

“Okay, I get it!” Torch grinned. Noting the way his eyes sparkled with the color of the ocean, Peter felt his heartbeat speed up.

“So,” With a cough, Peter looked to the horizon, slumping. “What brings you here? We’ve solved the Fox case, haven’t we?”

“Well, yeah, we did,” Johnny hesitated. “But I thought it’d be nice if we, um, if we hung out after. It’s nothing! Never mind, that was pretty lame.” As Johnny stood up, ready to fly away, Peter grabbed his arm.

“No, don’t worry about it!” Peter let go, reddening. “I’m totally down if you are.” Settling down, he remembered why he was on the statue in the first place. He glowered, feeling the urge to break the railings, but he figured it'd probably be considered defacing national property.

“What’s up, Spidey?”

“Hm? Nothing, why?”

Johnny leveled him a disbelieving look. "Nothing, _my ass_. Your suit’s eyes narrow when you’re upset, man."

Peter flushed. “No, really! It’s, well, it doesn’t matter.”

Johnny sighed, but said nothing. Somehow, that made him feel much worse than if Johnny pushed it.

Risking a glance, Peter couldn’t help but note how the setting sun’s rays made Johnny’s hair glow. At that moment, his breath hitched as he realized something. _Johnny Storm looked hot as hell_. And gave him butterflies in his stomach. Johnny Storm, who has been with at least a dozen other people. A dozen other _attractive people_. People who weren’t Peter Parker, a broke teen with a fascination for Star Wars, Lego kits, and Science.

Peter was screwed.

“Is there something on my face?” Peter blinked. Mortified, he realized he was probably staring at Johnny’s face. Johnny’s cute, smirking face.

“Nope. It’s just your face— I mean nah! It’s nothing. Nothing.” Peter flushed, still embarrassed. Before he could second-guess, he asked, “Are you, like, actually okay with me ranting? I don’t wanna be a bother or anything—”

Johnny shrugged. “Sure, man. I offered. Lay it on me.”

Peter found Johnny to be a good listener. They talked ‘til the sun set, and Peter didn’t even notice until it was dark. Johnny knew how to talk, and how to keep a conversation. It was then that Peter realized falling for Johnny Storm was gonna be difficult to avoid.

“And Mr. Stark doesn’t trust me with knives. _Knives_ , Torch. I’m 16, not a toddler!”

“Oh my god, Sue is just as bad.”

“They should never meet.”

“Agreed. I’d rather drown myself.”

* * *

Peter still wasn’t used to the lunch bell ringing in his ears. It used to bother him back in elementary school, but after the spider-bite, it was like blaring an airhorn right next to him. Wincing, he made his way to the cafeteria.

As he sat next to Ned, he drifted back to that day on the statue. Hanging out with Johnny was _exhilarating_. He didn’t treat Peter like some kind of idol, or like an idiot. He didn’t treat Peter like an invalid. Johnny saw Peter as just, some dude. There was no judgement from him, and Johnny wasn’t afraid to shut down his fears.

**_(“Dude, I’m pretty sure you’re overthinking it.”_ **

**_“Well I know for sure she’s gonna murder me!”_ **

**_“You just ate some of her food by accident. It’s no big deal, man. Don’t worry about it.”)_ **

Johnny was real. That was the thing, Johnny got it. He knows what it’s like to be a teenage superhero, like Peter. Not a lot of people got that. It was difficult to balance a normal life alongside hero stuff, more so with the drama of highschool. Although, Johnny wouldn’t know, ‘cause he was homeschooled. He still kinda got it. Some things, Peter would never experience, like fame and love. 

**_("I'm never gonna date anyone, ever again." Johnny groaned. "Like, for real. Dating is so complicated, y'know?"_ **

**_"I wouldn't know. I've never been in a relationship."_ **

**_"...You're ugly under the mask, aren't you?"_ **

**_"Hey!")_ **

“—Peter!”

Peter jumped out of his skin. _Ned was trying to catch his attention_ , he realized. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Were you even listening?" Ned grumbled, sliding a tray of fries over to Peter. Cafeteria food wasn’t nutritious, but there were worse things to eat. 

Picking up a fry, Peter ventured, "Locating the chiral centers of complex formulas?"

"I was talking about my new Lego set." Ned deadpanned. Well, fuck. Peter reddened, ashamed. Ned sighed, but asked, "So, what're you thinking about?"

"He's got a crush."

Peter blanked. "MJ! That's—” Peter turned his head away from Ned’s gaping face and MJ’s smug grin. “No!” He groaned.

"So," MJ's grin widened. "Who's got you all mushy?"

"Yeah man, I thought we were cool. Why didn't you tell me you had a crush?"

Peter flushed. "Because I don't!" He slammed his hands on the table, but realized that probably caused a scene. He glanced sideways. _Yep, he definitely caused a scene_. Awkwardly, he sat down, hoping the people around him would stop looking. "What makes you think I have a crush?"

"Well, nothing really. It was just a guess." MJ shrugged.

"No way. I don't believe you. That’s bullshit."

"I mean," Ned made a ‘pass it over’ gesture to Peter, so he slid the tray towards him. "You were pretty lost in your head, man. Your eyes were like, glazed over. I thought you were possessed or something."

"Also, you were really red."

Peter threw a fry at her.

* * *

Since the time he hung out with Johnny on the statue, they’d been hanging out at the top every day.

 _It’s just dudes being dudes. What you feel is platonic. It’s straight. So straight._ Peter cringed at how bad he was at lying, even to himself. Especially to himself. If anything, shouldn’t he at least be able to admit things in his own mind? _Fine. It’s not platonic. Peter Parker is crushing on Johnny Storm. Laugh it up, world._

At the base of the statue, Peter looked up, noticing a bright light at the top. To his excitement intrigue, there was a figure above, lit with orange flames.

Johnny.

Scaling the backside of Lady Liberty, Peter debated how to approach Johnny. Should he sneak up on him? Or should he call out his name? It didn’t matter anyway, ‘cause Johnny knew he was there.

“Hey, Spidey.” He sounded tired. Not that it’d take Sherlock to find that out. Johnny’s eyes looked bloodshot and hollowed, like he’d been haunted and unable to sleep since.

“Hey,” Peter set an uneasy smile on his face. “Did you know? The Statue of Liberty was supposed to have an older sister by the Suez Canal in Egypt, but it wasn’t approved because it was too expensive.”

Johnny snorted, settling down on one of the spikes. “You really are a piece of work aren’t you, Webhead?” Peter didn’t think he did anything to make Johnny angry, but he figured he could be an emotional punching bag for a bit. _Ask him why he's upset._

”Is something wrong?” Realizing how stupid the question was in hindsight, Peter cringed. There were better ways to say it than biting the bullet.

”Not really happy with Sue right now.” Johnny glared upwards as if there were some invisible eavesdropper. (Considering who his sister was, Peter wouldn’t rule it out.) He cursed, shooting a fireball into the sky. Taking a deep breath, he willed his flames to die down. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

”That’s alright.” Peter toyed with his web-slingers. _Oh, an idea._ “Hey, how about I get some pizzas? We can like, chill or something.”

Johnny smirked, rolling his eyes. “You want to chill with the fire guy?” Snorting, Peter internally pumped his fist. _Success_.

”What kind?”

”Get a large Veggie Lovers. I’m feeling healthy today.”

"I’ll be back in an hour, tops.”

”Wanna bet? Twenty says you won’t make it.”

”It’s a deal.”

They shook on it.

* * *

Peter knew he was pushing it when he said an hour, but also, he was Spiderman. He could probably do it quicker. Unfortunately, the problem with being Spiderman was that he was also _Spiderman_ , which meant when he saw the dude steal an old lady’s purse, he had to give chase. Well, he didn’t _have_ to, but he figured it was the right thing to do.

”God,” He grumbled. “I’m gonna be _so_ broke.”

Catching up to the mugger, Peter remembered the thrill of an old-fashioned pursuit. It felt good to web the thief onto a wall, leaving a message for the cops. (He knew leaving messages was a Deadpool move, but that wasn’t the point.) Returning the purse to the old lady, Peter sprinted, turning his run into a swing as he latched a web onto a building. _So much for winning a twenty._

It was a wonder that the pizzas were still intact. How five boxes of pizza weren’t damaged throughout the journey, Peter wasn’t sure, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining. A stroke of good luck, finally.

Arriving back on the statue, he didn’t have to look at Johnny to know how smug he was. “I believe you owe me something.” Putting a hand to his chin, he stroked his nonexistent beard. “Was it a lap dance? A car? Something more?” He gave Peter a shit-eating grin.

Peter wanted to make a good comeback, but his brain had turned into goo. _Holy shit, what if I gave Johnny a lap dance? Oh my god that would be so hot—_ “It was twenty bucks, man.”

Rolling his eyes, Johnny grabbed a box. “Just kidding, dude. Don’t get pissy about it! God, why’d you get five boxes? You hungry or something?”

Peter took off his mask to take a bite. He knew he could just roll it up, but he also wanted to reveal himself to Johnny. Although, in hindsight, it was so flippant and stupid, the way he unmasked himself. Shit, he should’ve put more thought into it. _Oh well_.

“Yeah, Spidey-metabolism. I need more food than normal people do. With great power comes a great need to eat.” He smiled as said those words. Peter would never forgive himself for uncle Ben’s death. He could’ve stopped the burglar; he _should’ve_ stopped the burglar; Uncle Ben would still be alive if he hadn’t been selfish.

 _No_ , Peter shrugged off his regret. _Focus. Johnny needs a friend, not_ _angst_.

“Are you holding up okay?” He asked.

“Are we not going to talk about,” Fumbling through nonsensical hand gestures, he pointed at Peter’s face. “This?”

“What’s there to talk about? I trust you, Torch. You're not gonna expose me or anything, are you?" Peter noted the way Johnny chuckled, soft and breathy. _There's more to it than trust, but Johnny doesn't have to know that_. "And stop trying to weasel yourself out of answering me.”

Johnny sighed. It was clear that he didn’t want to talk about whatever was haunting him, so Peter clamped his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Would it—” Johnny paused. “Could we not talk about it? It’s nothing on you, I swear! I just don’t— I really can’t— It’s—”

“Torch. Flame-brain. Hot Stuff.” _Hot Stuff?_ “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Johnny rested his back against the base of the torch, staring at the stars. In the moonlight, his hair was brightened with an ethereal beauty that Peter couldn’t quite place.

“Hey Spidey?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“It’s nothing. What’re friends for?”

* * *

Peter came to the conclusion that The Vulture was a nasty asshole in need of breath mints. Barely hanging on as The Vulture—Adrian Toomes— swung him around, Peter wished he got paid for his heroics. “I’m _so_ late for class. It’s been an hour, and I'm still riding Air-Avian.”

“Hey, Vulchy?” Peter knew it was a longshot, but pleading might allow him to get to English on time. “Could we finish this quickly? I mean, you’re a busy man; I’m a busy Spider! We both have plans, don’t we? Couldn’t you, like, I dunno, surrender or something?”

Toomes didn’t reply, but the sharp turn he made was probably as much of a reply as he would give.

“Okay, great! Good talk, man!” Peter sighed. _The hard way, then_. Looking around, Peter quickly shot a web towards the nearest cheap-looking building. Peter hoped the web would act like a rubber band, and in the best-case scenario, Peter would be able to tug Toomes toward the building.

Of course that didn’t happen.

He underestimated the speed of the Vulture’s wingsuit. Peter’s webs couldn’t withstand the tension, snapping off as it wore thin. Cursing, he realized there wasn’t much he could do but try to fight the Vulture in the air.

Thank god for the burning fireball coming his way.

Knowing Johnny could preoccupy the Vulture, Peter could breathe. He let go of the web tying him to Toomes, crashing through the windows of an office floor. No doubt Peter would have to deal with that later, but he could just leave Mr. Stark's number if they needed repairs. Tony was a sweetheart; he’d totally pay for the damages.

More pressing issues. Right.

Making his way back to the fight was difficult when both the hero and the villain were in the air. Fortunately, Peter had a better idea than aerial hand-to-hand combat. Realizing that the Torch was practically chasing Toomes towards Midtown, he swung through a shortcut. _Thank god it was Midtown_. Peter’s turf.

“Hey Karen? Can you give me directions to the nearest narrow road to Midtown Tech in Johnny’s direction?”

“Certainly, Peter. There’s a road that the Human Torch is currently heading towards. It would take him around ten minutes longer than it would for you to get there.”

“Thanks, Karen. Also, could you set my webs to the taser webs when we get there?”

“Of course, Peter.”

He hoped the Torch could learn Spider-lingo quickly. Making a gesture toward the direction Peter wanted him to go to, he swung his way towards the narrow road. Remembering a story from Darcy Lewis, he laughed at his ridiculous idea. No way the Vulture wouldn’t catch on to his plans, but he couldn’t stop now. Not when he’d already started.

Karen notified him that the taser webs had been set. _Great. It’s go time._ When Peter first found out about his Spider-y nature, he threw himself into intense research. On a late night when aunt May was working a double shift, he found out that some spiders use their webs as nets. One spider, in particular, caught his eye: the spitting spider. Their silk can be woven into a capture device, allowing them to spit venom as to immobilize their prey. Now, it was time for Peter to become one of them.

Setting up a gigantic taser net from afar was difficult. It was even more difficult to do so without _touching any_. Peter figured once he started thinking about not touching it, all he could do was think about _touching it_.

The riskiest part of his plan was getting the Torch in on it. He couldn’t shout for him to go through the road. Toomes would hear. All he could do was vaguely gesture toward the general direction he wanted the Torch to go.

They should invest in comms.

In the air, the Vulture wasn’t doing well. His harness must’ve been made out of metal, because it seemed to burn Toomes’s arms like a brand. He couldn’t fight back either, or his wings would burn off. He’d probably roast like a chicken, too.

Making a big show out of swinging to the trap, Peter was optimistic that the Torch would understand what he meant. Peter couldn’t afford to think otherwise. He couldn’t afford anything, really, but he _definitely_ couldn’t afford second-guessing himself.

Luckily, he caught on. Probably.

Peter watched as the Torch flared up, rising higher into the air. The heat probably made Toomes uneasy, as he dove his way out of the flames, and into the trap. Peter winced, seeing the Vulture get a nasty shock. He never liked seeing people in pain. Well, there were a few exceptions, but for the most part, he hated watching people get hurt.

Peter looked away, turning towards the Torch instead. “Glad you got my signal, flamebrain.” He smirked.

“Barely.” Johnny rolled his eyes. “I was _so_ confused. Like, why was Spidey swinging in a circle? He could’ve helped me, but _no_ , he wanted to do tricks instead. Then you like, pointed to the alley—”

“Not an alley.”

“—The _alley_ , and I figured it out. That was dumb as hell.”

“Well, at least I came up with _something_."

“Shut up, Webs!"

“Fuck off.”

Johnny waved it off. Looking back to the unconscious, fried body of the Vulture, he asked, “So, what do we do with the body?”

“Torch! You can’t just say that out loud!” Peter hissed, looking from side-to-side for any cops. “We would totally get into trouble.”

“God, we’re not robbing a bank or anything.” Johnny made a small flame, throwing it in the air like a baseball. He looked like he was toying with the idea of throwing it at Toomes. Peter wouldn’t let him, of course. “We can say stuff like that. Not like the cops are gonna arrest us.”

“Maybe they won’t arrest _you_.” Hearing Toomes groan, Peter shot another taser web at him, feeling worse about it. “But the cops would give anything to get me in trouble."

“They wouldn't."

“They shot me at least six times before.”

Johnny shrugged. “Sounds like a you problem.” They stood in awkward silence, with only the sound of traffic and busy New York streets. “You wanna hang out or something? I mean, I’m not busy so I’m down.”

“I would but— shit!” Peter groaned, realizing the time. “I’m late for class! I’m _so_ late for class!” Hiding his face in his hands, he started pacing. “Miss Brownstein is gonna murder me. She’s gonna strangle me. And stab me. And set me on fire.”

“Dude, you should run.” Johnny paused. “Wait, maybe I can help?”

“How?” Peter peeked from his hands. He felt actual tears pooling in his eyes, which was like, whoa. Chill out, man. Johnny saw it too, based on his wince. “I should swing.” Running up the nearest skyscraper, he didn’t expect Johnny to tail him. “What could you possibly do to help me? This is an _actual_ me problem.”

“Well, you could like, hitch a ride with me?”

“You don’t have a car.”

“I do, but that’s not what I meant. You could ride me.” He blanked. “Wait. Shit. That’s not what I meant. Oh my god.”

Peter crashed, his brain along with him. “You’re an idiot. What did you have in mind?”

“I could like, fly you over.”

“You’re gonna fly me over.”

“Yep.”

“While you’re on fire.”

“Yep.”

Peter stared at Johnny's smiling face. ”And you said I was dumb as hell.”

“Yep,” He held up a hand before Peter could protest. “But you could do that thing you were doing with the Vulture! You have fireproof webs, don’t you?” Not waiting for a reply, Johnny continued. “You could tie a web on my leg or something. Isn’t that a good plan?”

Peter had to admit, it was an okay-sounding plan. Sighing, he said, “Yeah. Fine. Let’s do it.”

* * *

“Go left! Go left! HOLY SHIT TORCH, LEFT! NOW!”

“You could totally take on a building, Webs!”

“That doesn’t mean I want to! Oh my god, you better steer me away, or I fucking swear—”

Rolling his eyes, Johnny veered left, barely missing the imminent threat that was a skyscraper. Releasing a weary sigh of relief, Peter wondered if his soul had departed his body. If villains weren’t gonna be the death of him, the Human Torch’s daredevil stunts surely would.

“Wait, land here.” Johnny set Peter down in a dark alley. Peter rummaged furiously through a dumpster, in search of something.

“This isn’t your school, is it? I mean, not gonna judge, but, I dunno if this place would give you quality education man.”

Peter snorted, but pointed at a large, brown and white building across the road. “That’s my school. Kind of a nerd school.”

“Didn’t think a nerd school would have a football field.”

“Shut up.” Peter smirked. “We’re not all nerds. Some of them get in through sports scholarships. Or they buy their way in. Keep a secret?” Pausing, he stage-whispered. “It shows.”

Johnny snorted cutely. How someone snorts _cutely_ , Peter couldn’t figure out. For some reason, anything Johnny does is cute in Peter’s eyes. Johnny could set a building on fire, and Peter would probably find it adorable.

_Dark._

“Do you like it there?”

Peter blinked. The question was unexpected, but Peter didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. I mean, it’s hard balancing school with patrol, but I make do.”

Johnny hummed. “Are you a nerd?”

“Huh?” Peter tilted his head in confusion. “Well, yeah, kinda. Why’re you asking?”

“No reason.” But of course, Peter knew when people say _no reason_ , there _is_ a reason. Johnny didn’t give him the chance to ask further, though. “Anyway, what’re you looking for?”

“Oh, well, I’m looking for my bag, actually. You wouldn’t believe how many times it’s been thrown out since I started— Oh! Found it!” Digging out his backpack from the trash, Peter knew it was a pathetic sight. If reporters saw him, their next headline would probably be, _Spiderman: The Homeless New York Vigilante._

Turning towards the Torch, he asked, “Hey, could you guard me? I gotta change into some normal clothes. Don’t want people seeing me in my underwear, or anything.”

“Oh,” Johnny went pink, turning away. _What was that about?_ “Sure man.”

Shrugging, Peter checked his bag, making sure all the stuff he had was still there. Taking out his clothes, Peter took off his suit. Sometimes, people would come up to him during patrol and ask how his suit works. Does it have a zipper? Is it like an Iron Man suit? Does it run out of web? Or are they like, made in his body? The last one was nasty, and haunted Peter’s thoughts for days. He didn’t want to imagine a world where he _produced webbing_.

Buttoning his pants, he caught Johnny’s gaze, though he wasn’t sure where he was looking. “What?” Peter asked. Johnny looked away as he blushed harder. Peter found it confusing as shit.

“It’s nothing.” Johnny muttered. “Hey, wanna meet at the Statue? Nine thirty. I’ll bring milkshakes.”

“Sure?” He wasn’t sure why Johnny was being so weird. “You ok, man?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” A little hurt at Johnny’s seemingly sudden shift in mood, Peter watched as he shouted ‘ _flame on!’_ , leaving behind a trail of heat and questions.

* * *

At seven in the evening, Peter wasn’t sure if he should patrol or prepare to meet Johnny. Lying down on the top bunk of his bed, He debated grabbing a pair of jeans or his Spiderman suit. He decided not to decide. Instead, he grabbed his phone, texting his group chat with Ned and MJ.

**Peter: Hi**

**Peter: I need to make a decision**

**Ned: yeah? what’s up**

**Peter: So**

**Peter: I’m gonna be hanging out with Johnny Storm in like**

**Peter: Two hours from now**

**Ned: holy shit**

**Ned: PETER WHAT THE FUCK**

**Ned: YOU KNOW THE HUMAN TORCH?**

**Peter: It’s nothing man**

**Peter: He’s kind of an idiot**

**Peter: ANYWAY**

**Peter: Do you think I should do a quick patrol before going?**

**MJ: No, Parker.**

****Ned: omfg peter take a fucking break from spidering** **

**Ned: you gotta let go man**

**Ned: ur always on patrol**

**Peter: I can’t just take a break Ned**

**Peter: What if someone gets hurt or robbed**

**Peter: And I wasn’t there**

**MJ: Jesus, Parker. You’re not gonna be able to stop _all crime_ in New York**

**MJ: Just accept the break.**

**Peter: Fuck**

Groaning, Peter reluctantly picked up the pants. Should he dress to impress? Or would that be too weird?

As Peter walked out of his room, he felt the urge to reach for his suit. Surely it would be better to be prepared, just in case something bad happens? But a voice in his head (MJ’s, because MJ is always watching) told him firmly not to. Sighing, he controlled himself, but still brought his web-slingers, hiding them under the sleeve of his shirt.

_Crime stops for nobody._

He knew that wasn’t the saying, but it was still true.

Opening the window of his bedroom, Peter looked to the sides. _Nobody’s watching._ Crawling down the wall, his mind kept nagging at him to bring the suit, but he decided to take his phone out instead. Best to let Johnny know he was on his way.

 _Wait_ , Peter realized. _I don’t have his number. Oh well, I’ll just drop in by surprise or something._

Riding the subway was exhausting. The E train was as dirty as a teenager’s mind and stank of rotten lunch. To an outsider, the metro would probably be a nightmare, but Peter’s poor boy ass was used to it. He didn’t bother to sit down, in case the seat was covered in piss. If anyone asked him, though, he thought the worst part of riding the subway was the long ride. Peter found it difficult to sit still (stand still, whatever) for a whole hour, let alone two.

***

The car he was in had barely any people in it, save a few passengers from previous stops. Watching each of them with glassy eyes, Peter knew he looked like a creep, but he couldn't stop himself from looking. Since the spider bite, his senses had been sharpened. With his enhanced eyesight, he could see the woman across him lock her jaw with frustration. He saw the little specks of dirt on the floor. He could see the homeless guy pick his nose in HD too, unfortunately.

Sensory overloads were even less pleasant around smelly, old people in a subway.

The ride to Manhattan couldn’t have moved slower. Peter smelled every bead of sweat; he heard the screeching wheels on the rail; he fixated on the moldy ceiling. Everything was so _intense_ , in a bad way. As soon as the train reached his stop, he bolted out of the car. _Big mistake_.

His stop was at the World Trade Center, which meant when he was assaulted with corporate America's finest noise pollution, credit to Manhattan.

Heaving, he stumbled his way to the exit, closing his eyes and ears in an attempt to shut out the noise, but to no avail. There was no drowning out the sea of voices screaming in his ears; there was no hope in calming down. He couldn't move anything, so his mind was free to focus on his anxiety. Thanks, brain.

“Are you ok, dear?”

Peter flinched. He turned back, finding the voice’s source: an old woman. She must’ve noticed his sudden jerk, because her voice softened. “Can you breathe with me, darling? Follow my breathing.”

“Too loud.” He wheezed. “Everything’s too much. Too bright.”

“I know, hon. Can I clamp your ears? Would that help?”

“Prickly.”

“Prickly?”

“Prickly, like a pineapple.”

“I suppose that’s a no. Pineapples? Do you like pineapples, dear?

“Not really. Hurts my mouth.”

The old woman laughed. “They do that to me too. That’s why I’m not very fond of Hawaiian pizza. What kind of pizza do you like, kiddo?”

_Kiddo._

That word brought back a lot of memories. Peter could see Mr. Stark. He could feel Mr. Stark place a hand on his back, asking him to _breathe with me, kid. Can you count to ten for me? Kiddo, don't worry about it. You're not bothering anyone._ He remembered the inside of Mr. Stark’s lab, with Dum-E’s whirring and Mr. Stark’s passed out form on a workbench. Peter saw the peaceful mess of a tower Mr. Stark called a home. The peaceful mess of a tower _he_ called a second home.

It was difficult, with how his head felt like _drowning, drowning, ~~underwater can’t breathe can’t breathecan’tbreathecan’t~~_ but Peter tried matching the woman's breathing. His head still felt tingly, and his eyes seemed to drift everywhere, taking in their surroundings with extreme precision. But he couldn't get stuck like that. He _can_ _'t_ get stuck. 

The most irritating part about his little breakdown was that he didn't _know_ why he broke down. Was it the shitty smell of leftovers in the Subway? Or maybe it was the shrieking baby and the reek of piss. Peter would probably never figure out what triggered him, but he sure as hell hoped it wouldn't appear any time soon.

***

Forcing himself to get up (when did he crouch?), Peter realized people were looking. It was probably an odd scene; An old lady comforting a crying teenager in the middle of a crowded terminal. “Thank you.” Giving a weak smile, he wiped the tears off his face. _Wouldn’t want to meet Johnny like that._

_Wait. Johnny._

“Oh, I’m so fucked. Uh, miss? What’s the time?”

“Please, sonny. Call me Peggy, or aunt Peggy, if you’d like. As for the time,” Peggy took out a pocket watch. Who still owns those? “It seems to be around nine o’clock.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. Peggy, I gotta go! I’m gonna be so late! Ugh,” Cursing, he dusted his jeans. “Where’s the nearest bus to the Statue of Liberty?”

Peggy huffed. “I said call me _Peggy_. Not Ms. Piggy, or something.” Looking him over, she asked, “Are you going to be okay, dear?”

“I,” He started. “How did you know how to do that?”

Giving him an amused glance, Peggy turned away with a lost look on her face. Suddenly, she looked a lot older than seemed. “I’ve had friends with special, well, circumstances. They would get panic attacks like you did. Learning how to help took quite a bit of time, but it’s pretty useful, no?”

Peter tilted his head in confusion. Peggy seemed like someone he should _know_ , but he couldn’t quite place where he’d heard the name. _Aunt Peggy_ , in particular, was familiar. It didn’t matter, so Peter shrugged it off.

“Anyway, darling, I have places to be, and I’m sure you do too, so I won’t keep us both. Have a good evening, dear.” With that, Peggy strode towards the metro.

* * *

“Did you know the actual name of the Statue is ‘Liberty Enlightening the World’?”

Peter watched Johnny startle, noting the way his shoulders tense and relax. “Didn’t think you were gonna show.”

“Sorry, sorry, got caught up in something. What time is it?”

Not even looking at his phone, Johnny hadn’t skipped a beat. “Nine-forty-three.” He frowned. “I was gonna leave in two minutes if you didn’t arrive.”

“Well, I’m here _now_. That counts for something, right?”

Johnny smiled slightly, looking like an adonis. The moon and stars seemed to make him shine brighter than he ever would as the Torch. “It does.” Johnny said it so softly, so unlike himself; it threw Peter off.

“So,” Peter fumbled. “Milkshakes?”

“Right, yes.”

As they sat on top of the torch (they liked to change things up sometimes), Peter took a moment to actually _look_ at Johnny. He wore an empty look on his face, which made Peter feel uneasy. _Was Johnny angry with him? Should he apologize or something_? He realized his senses were starting to sharpen just as his breathing quickened.

“Wanna share with the class, Webhead?”

“It’s nothing, Torch.”

“Johnny.”

“What?” Peter blanked. The confusion he felt was almost enough to pull him out of his impending sensory overload. Panic attack. Whichever it was.

“Call me Johnny. I think we’re on that level of friendship.”

“Ah,” His brain was a jumbled mess, but he realized he should probably say something. “Peter. Call me. Peter, that is. I—” Blushing, Peter looked up, into Johnny’s striking eyes and striking face. “My name’s Peter.”

“Cool stuff, Peter. Anyway,” _Damn, Johnny didn’t drop it_. “What’s up?”

“It’s— You won’t understand. It’s a me problem.”

Johnny looked unimpressed. “Webs, I live with two brainiacs. I think I can get a grasp on whatever’s going on. _Enlighten me_.” Johnny stressed.

Blinking, a small grin grew on Peter’s mouth. “You're stupid.”

“Hush, you. Out with it.”

“I don’t really know how to explain, man. So like, I told you about how my powers work, right?” Getting a nod from Johnny, he continued. “Sometimes, I just, _overload_ , I guess. Everything becomes so sharp. If I had a freak out right now, I’d probably be able to hear everything all the way to Ellis Island.”

“Dude, that blows.” Johnny took a sip out of his milkshake. _Chocolate flavored with sprinkles_ , Peter predicted, _because Johnny was like a child at times._ Not that chocolate milkshakes with sprinkles were childish, but they were. “What do your senses have to do with anything?”

“Everything, actually.” With a sigh, he detailed the horror metro ride. He was reminded that Johnny was a really good listener. It was relieving, that he wasn’t getting interrupted, and that Johnny seemed like he was paying rapt attention.

“So like, Ms. Peggy, the old lady, helped me calm down in the terminal. That’s why I was late, actually.”

Johnny’s blank face twisted into a difficult expression. If Peter were to try making a guess at what the expression meant, he’d probably place it at anger and— guilt? Why would Johnny feel guilty?

“Sorry you had to go through that, Peter.” Johnny said quietly. It was unsettling how weirdly sensitive he was being.

“Don’t worry about it. Are _you_ okay? What’s up?”

Johnny frowned, which made Peter frown with him. “It’s nothing.”

“ _You’re_ one to dodge a question.”

Johnny pulled a wobbly smirk, horribly unconvincing. “I really _am_ fine. It’s just—” Johnny let out a humorless laugh. “I can’t believe I was frustrated with you for being a _little late_. Especially if it was for something like—” He made nonsensical gestures. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Are you breaking up with me, Hot Stuff?”

Johnny laughed. A real one, this time. “God, Spidey. Peter. You’re impossible.”

“You too.”

“Shut up, dork.” Looking up to the sky, Johnny threw a fireball.

“Holy shit, Johnny! Did you just throw _fire_? We're on a _national monument!_ ”

“It’s not gonna burn anything.” Johnny rolled his eyes in a typical Johnny Storm fashion. “Hey, what time is it? Like, eleven?”

Checking his phone, Peter nodded. “Yeah. It's almost eleven-thirty.”

“Oh man, I’m so fucked! I promised Sue I’d be back, like, half an hour ago! Sorry to cut this short." Johnny sighed, hesitating to say something. "See you soon?” Johnny sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Peter’s reptilian brain wanted to put his mouth on his neck.

_Shut up, reptilian brain._

_Bite me_ , it said back.

“Actually,” Peter flushed. “Could you fly me back? I think the subway’s closed.” He wasn’t sure if the subway was actually closed, but he didn’t want to find out the hard way. Also, a small ( _teeny, tiny_ ) part of Peter wanted to find out what it’d be like to fly with the Human Torch, without the adrenaline rush of a fight.

Johnny blinked, before slapping a hand to his face. “Oh my god, yeah! I just realized! This place is like, so out of the way for you, isn’t it? We’ve gotta find a better Usual Place.”

“This is our Usual Place?” The incredulous stare Johnny gave him was enough to say, _yes Peter, this is the Usual Place_.

“We've hung out here like, a million times. That’s pretty usual."

“I suppose it is."

“But,” Johnny groaned. “I forgot you live in Queens! And you don’t have awesome powers like I do—”

“Hey! My powers are cool!”

“You don’t have _flight powers_ ,” Johnny said slowly. “So you’ve been, what? Swinging your way back? That’s crazy. Let’s find a better Usual Place.”

“I think I’m running out of Statue of Liberty fun facts, too.”

“Those aren’t mandatory. Actually, you know what? Those aren’t allowed. Banned. No fun facts anymore.”

“But I love my fun facts!” Peter whined.

"Only you, Pete."

* * *

“By the way, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Be ready for Monday.”

“What? What does that mean? Johnny! What does that fucking mean? Hey! Come back here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!!  
> i'd appreciate criticism in the comments! thanks for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi apologies for it being 2 days later than i promised  
> hope you enjoy!

Peter figured heroes should have some sort of hero therapy to sort out their issues. He was getting tired of waking up in the middle of the night. Checking his phone, Peter groaned. _Two AM_.

“I could do patrol.” He mused.

As Peter moved to grab his gear, he laughed at himself. _Pathetic. You can’t deal with your own shit, so you go out to fight crime. Who are you, Diego Hargreeves_?

Climbing out the window, he took a whiff of the beautiful smell of New York pollution. He missed the good old days when he was still a small-time hero. Before the Germany incident. Peter still wasn’t given a reason on why they went, but apparently, Captain America became a fugitive, then the Avengers were split apart. Thor and Bruce Banner were still missing, and Mr. Stark became all sad and brooding. Fun times.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard a bloodcurdling scream. Making haste, he ran into a dark corridor. _Not foreboding at all_. Peter found two men holding a girl in a chokehold.

“You sit your pretty ass here, missy.” The man restraining her was disgusting, no doubt. He had an awful beer-belly, with a menacing sneer to match. “We’re gonna have a good time, just you see.”

Peter saw enough, and it made him want to actually make them _hurt_. “Hey!” They turned around. He could see the relief in the girl’s face. “Hasn’t anybody taught you about consent?”

Ready to shoot a web, he noticed the other guy had a knife. “That’s not very polite.” He tutted, taking the weapon away. Dude number One scrambled away, but Dude number Two wasn’t smart enough to figure out he was gonna get his ass beat.

Dude number Two lunged, but it only took an enhanced kick in the gut to disorient him, allowing Peter to knock him out with a tap on the head. Sure that the threats had been dealt with, he ran back to the girl, helping her up.

“You okay?”

“Well,” Her mouth twisted, but Peter wasn’t sure if it was a smile or a grimace. “I won’t be part of the Me Too movement today.” With that, it was like a dam had burst. Peter wasn’t sure for how long, but he held the girl in his arms as she wept. Seemed like neither of them were gonna get sleep that night.

Queens at Midnight was a threatening place. Every shadow seemed to creep up on them; something was _drip, drip, dripping_ and Peter wasn’t stoked to find out what it was. The floor was unbelievably filthy, but that didn’t stop the woman from sinking onto it, bawling.

Peter didn’t know what to do. The most experience he’s had with comforting was watching some dude in a movie hold a girl as she cried. _Seemed about right_. He wasn’t the best with words (god knows a fuck ton of people can attest to that), but he did his best as he winged it.

Still sniffling, the girl murmured, “Gwen.”

“What?”

“I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy.”

“Oh,” He blinked. “I’m Spiderman! Wait,” Peter put his hands on his face, groaning. “God, that was so stupid. Fuck.”

Gwen stifled a giggle despite the situation. “Don’t worry about it.” Getting up, she dusted her jeans. Peter looked around, checking if Dude number One came back. Luckily, he hadn’t returned. “Hey Spiderman?” Gwen started.

“Yeah? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, not at all, it’s nothing!” Gwen shook her head vigorously. “I was wondering if we could get burgers? I know a place and like, it’s the least I could do for all the—” Her mouth clamped shut. “Anyway, wanna eat?”

“No, it’s fine! I wouldn’t wanna hold you up or anything! I’m sure you’re busy!”

“Spiderman, you literally just did like, _so much_ for me. This whole… thing would’ve turned out pretty goddamn different if you hadn’t swung by. You can’t possibly imagine how grateful I am. Let me get you a midnight snack. It’s the least I could do.”

“…Okay.”

* * *

Peter sat by the window, still in the Spiderman suit. Side-eyeing Gwen, who was approaching the table with a mountain of food, he wondered if it was too late to take off. It was mortifying, that Gwen would buy so much food just for him. “God, Gwen, is it the end of the world? Who’s gonna eat all of this stuff?”

“You will.” She set the tray down, counting the order. “Six double cheeseburgers, with fries and a few free drinks. Dig in, Spiderman.” Peter was hesitant to take the food, but with a bite of the cheeseburger, he was in heaven.

“Holy shit,” Peter breathed. “I’m gonna come back here with like, my life savings. These are so good!”

Gwen hummed. “Yeah, it’s pretty great, isn't it?” Looking around, she leaned in, whispering. “So, like, do you always go around town past midnight? What’re you doing up?”

“Why’re you being quiet?” Peter rolled his eyes as Gwen shrugged. “I could ask the same to you.”

“Well, I asked first.”

“…Fair.” He leaned back, munching on his third burger. “I was asleep, then I woke up. Figured I could do some patrolling before the sun rose.”

“Why’d you wake up?”

“Bad memories. Bad dreams.”

“About hero stuff?”

Peter winced. “What is this, twenty-one questions? I mean, to answer that, yes, but like, I’m not really comfortable talking about all this with a stranger.”

“Well,” Gwen picked up a fry. “Me being a stranger also has its good sides. You can bitch about anything and everything but I wouldn’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Think of it as therapy. Really broke therapy. That helps, right?”

“I guess so.”

“So, wanna talk to me about it?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“How’s the superhero gig?”

It was freeing, talking to someone about all the shit he had to put up with. He didn’t have to worry about worship or anything. Gwen listened, and she listened _intently_. He felt bad for complaining, but Gwen reassured him.

“You’re not a bad person for being tired, Spiderman. Nor are you a bad person for being anxious. I mean, with all that you’ve gone through, I’m surprised you’re still in the industry. Hell, I bet you don’t rest on weekends.”

“Crime stops for nobody!”

“Oh, for the love of—” Gwen took a sip out of her milkshake. Leveling him a stern gaze, she said, “You have to take a break _sometimes_. You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

“Fuck, you’re like Ned and MJ.”

“Ned and MJ?”

“My friends,” Peter hesitated, before explaining. “From school.”

“Well, Ned and MJ are right. You should stop for a while.”

“But I can’t!” Peter found it frustrating that no one understood his being a hero was a _responsibility_. Spiderman wasn’t just something he could shrug off whenever he felt like it. It was a part of him. An essential part of keeping what little he’s got together.

“Why not? You could totally afford to take a day off.”

“That’s the thing!” He yelled. “I did that, once! Then my uncle—” Sobbing, Peter looked up. He saw the pity in Gwen’s eyes; he didn’t want it. “My uncle Ben told me once that with great power comes great responsibility. I can’t just drop Spiderman for a few what? Vacation days? Who knows what would happen then?”

“Spiderman.” Gwen stared hard at his mask lenses. “You can’t keep going on carrying the weight of the world. All the crime out there? It’s not your duty to stop every single bad thing that happens. You can’t do that. No one can. With what happened tonight? Of course I’m happy you were there, but I wouldn’t have wanted you to take a toll on your health, physical _or_ emotional. You shouldn’t run yourself down just to make someone else’s day a little better.”

It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Peter felt that truth stuck in his throat. “Let’s not talk about it.”

Gwen sighed, slumping on the seat. “Fine. That was getting pretty dark anyways. What to talk about, though?” She mused. The way she acted reminded Peter of MJ, which was a scary thought. He resolved to never let them meet. “Do you have any super-crushes? Like, crushes on other heroes?”

“Nope! Not a single one!” Peter squeaked. _Fuck, that was very convincing_. The shark-like grin on Gwen’s face unnerved him.

“Sure, Spidey.” With a drawl, she set her burger down. Gwen put her hands together, and Peter could tell she was gonna do her best to crack who his _mystery crush_ was.

Sighing, Peter decided to tell her about Johnny. _Not like you know her anyway. She won’t tell anyone who matters._ “You know the Human Torch, right?”

* * *

Peter didn’t get back to his apartment until five-thirty in the morning. His chat with Gwen had taken an unexpected turn, and Peter didn’t feel like he had the energy for a school day, let alone Johnny’s ominous (message? warning?). Hearing his alarm set off, Peter let out a low noise from his throat. He thought he had more time until school.

The trip to school was a blur, probably because Peter was half-asleep for most of it. He yawned as Ned shook him awake. “Dude, you’ve got to see this!”

Getting off the bus, Peter realized something was weird. There was a huge crowd by the entrance, seemingly with someone at the center. Peter got a bad feeling that it was related to the Monday thing. _I fucking swear, if it’s what I_ think _it is, I’m gonna tase Johnny so hard_. But taser webs can wait. School cannot.

Drawing closer, he sighed. _Yep, Johnny’s showing off for high-schoolers_. He watched as Johnny juggled fireballs like he was in the circus. By accident, Peter caught his eye. Johnny’s smirk turned into a smile, but Peter knew where the situation was headed. He ducked his head as he attempted to go through the doors without getting pushed into the crowd.

“Peter!” _Fuck_.

He knew as soon as Johnny noticed him, people would start a fucking _riot_. A low murmur broke out within the crowd, but for Peter’s heightened senses, it was like everyone was screaming in his ear.

“Puny Parker knows _Johnny Storm_?”

“No fucking way.”

“Maybe it’s a prank?”

“Parker!”

Peter couldn’t take all the muttering. Dazed, he made his way to the entrance, ignoring the incredulous stares. He imagined Johnny would be hurt that he walked away, and it made his heart ache. He couldn’t turn back. Not when he just escaped.

Ned caught up to him. “Dude! You just walked away from _Johnny Storm_. What the hell are you thinking?”

“Ned,” Peter put his hands on Ned’s shoulder’s. Looking him in the eye, he said, “Having Johnny here is gonna complicate things.”

“Yeah, but like, you know him right?”

“I do, but—”

“That _means_ ,” He stressed. “You could have an in with the cool guys! Johnny Storm is like, a born-and-raised cool guy!”

“Oh my god, Ned, that’s exactly my point!” Peter slammed his locker open with a little more force than necessary. Just his luck, of course, he ripped the door open. Exasperated (with himself and his exhausting day), he turned to Ned. “If he stays here, he’s gonna be one of the cool kids, right?” Peter saw Ned mouth _cool kids_ with a funny expression, but that didn’t stop him from going on his tangent. “That means if he starts hanging out with me, he’s gonna draw attention!”

“So?”

“So,” Peter grasped at his hair. “I’ll be dragged into the spotlight! I don’t wanna be a cool kid! I don’t _want_ it to be different!”

Ned put up his hands like a form of surrender. Peter probably seemed frustrated, which was _good_ , because he was definitely frustrated. “Sorry, man. Would’ve figured you’d be happier with your crush going to your school, or something.”

“I don’t—” As he sputtered, a girl bumped into him. Peter dropped his books in surprise, before noticing who he bumped into. “Holy shit, _Gwen_?”

Gwen looked down, scrunching her eyebrows. “Wait,” Her eyes widened. _Shit._ “Spiderman?”

“Holy shit, Peter, someone knows your _identity_?”

“Yes, Ned, clearly. Also god, Gwen, say it louder.” He hissed, looking around. Thankfully, nobody was near them in the corridor they were in. “You go to Midtown?”

“Gee, do I?”

“It was rhetorical. Fuck. _Fuck_.” He slapped his forehead, groaning. “I spilled my guts to a stranger, and she goes to my school. Just my luck. A girl at my school knows all my secrets. Am I in Mean Girls? Is your name Gretchen?”

“Hey, Peter! Peter!” _Oh my god, it gets worse, of course. Three’s a crowd; four’s… a bigger crowd_.

He resisted the urge to groan as he turned around. “Johnny.”

His exhaustion must’ve shown, because Johnny’s smile faded. “Aren’t— Did I do something?”

Taking a deep breath, Peter let it go. “Nope.” He smiled. It didn’t convince anyone, but Ned cut in before anything could escalate.

“Guys, we’re gonna be late for homeroom! Hey Mr. Storm, what’s your schedule?”

“For fuck’s sake, Ned, you sound like a tool. He’s a normal person, just call him Johnny.” Moments like those make Peter so _irritated_. _People are people; who gives a shit if he was popular?_ Johnny wasn’t a god.

Gwen gave him a knowing smile, which bothered Peter, because he didn’t know what he was supposed to be knowing. She peered at Johnny’s schedule. “Oh, hey, we have the same homeroom class! I can take you there.”

Curious, Peter also glanced at the paper. “Wait,” He squinted, reading it again. _No way. That’s one hell of a coincidence._ “We have the same schedule?”

“Huh, freaky.” Johnny laughed. _Suspicious_.

“Hey, Peter, we should catch up later!” Gwen winked. “Let’s meet at lunch. I’ll find you.” With that, she sauntered away with Johnny. Seemingly, they formed some kind of banter instantaneously. Peter supposed Gwen just had that charisma that made people feel relaxed around her.

“I was serious about being late, y’know.”

“Fuck, right! Coming!”

* * *

There wasn’t much that bothered Peter, but something changed about Johnny. Something happened between homeroom and first period, probably to do with Gwen. He was smirking, and Peter found that menacing. _Johnny was scheming_.

During first period, Chemistry, their teacher made an announcement. “As you may have noticed, we have a new student with us, Mr. Storm.” Winking at Johnny (which was unsettling from an adult), he said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Storm. Mr. Parker is top-notch at Chemistry. Any science subject, really.”

“That’s high praise, isn’t it?” Johnny whispered. Peter felt the words tingle in his ear, just as he realized how Johnny was practically breathing on his neck. He was lost in his mind, but he quickly realized where he was. _Stop. You’re in Chemistry. No time for filthy thoughts, Parker_.

“Shh,” Peter turned away, blushing. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“I doubt that.”

“Okay, so— Holy shit, Johnny! You can’t just use your powers like that!”

“But it said to heat the solution!”

“We have bunsen burners for a reason.” Peter hissed. “One, your flames are a _lot hotter_ than a normal fire. Two, we use bunsen burners because they’re standardized!”

Johnny frowned. “Are you saying I have no control? Dude, I could totally do what a bunsen burner does, if not _better_.”

“No, that’s not—” Peter groaned. Johnny looked so genuinely confused, and it frustrated Peter ‘cause he couldn’t figure out how to explain. “You can’t just flex your powers in front of everyone!”

“Why not?”

“It’s unfair.”

“I’m just making use of what I have, aren’t I?”

“It’s— I can’t explain it now but, just don’t, for today. Please?”

“…Kay. ” The fire on Johnny’s hand went out, allowing Peter to slump back on his chair. He knew the class was watching them with veiled interest. Having a famous teenage heart-throb as a lab partner came with that shit.

Soon, there’d be drama. _Great_.

Time seemed to slow down for the whole day. It was like a miracle when Peter heard the lunch bell ring. He beckoned Johnny from his desk as he walked out the classroom. Economics seemed to have drained Johnny’s essence. His face was blank, like he was in a daze.

“Well _you_ look chipper.”

“God, don’t even start.” He grumbled. “I’m good with maths and english but dude, economics is a nightmare! Thank fuck I’m not a businessman.”

“You’d make a really bad businessman.”

“Yeah, I’ll stick to the celebrity life, thanks.”

Peter could tell based on Johnny’s face that the cafeteria wasn’t what he expected. Frankly, _nobody’s_ expectations of the cafeteria match up to reality the first time they enter the room. “Get used to it, Flame-brain. You’re in the American public school system _now_.”

“I should’ve stayed in homeschooling.”

Peter laughed, taking a seat at their usual table. MJ was there, as always (because she will always be early, somehow), reading a book. “Parker,” She raised an eyebrow. “You gonna introduce us?”

“Right,” Peter stole a few of Ned’s fries, ignoring his sputtering. “Johnny, this is Michelle, but people call her MJ—”

“ _Friends_ call me MJ.”

“Yeah. MJ, this is Johnny Storm.”

MJ looked Johnny up and down, sizing him up. “So this is the partner?”

“Yeah,” Johnny sat next to Peter, holding a tray of fries. “Hey Pete, I got us some fries. Figured you could use the extra calories.”

“That is not just _some fries_. Also, usually people don’t tell others to gain more calories. I’m not underweight, Torch.”

“Well, usually people don’t have enhanced metabolisms and have an enhanced diet to match. Just eat.” Peter took the tray, but didn’t want Johnny to get all smug, so he pulled a face while accepting it.

He noticed MJ watching them talk with a smile. “Stop looking at me like that.” Peter shivered. “You’re being a creep.”

“Who’s being a creep?”

Peter supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Gwen. She _did_ promise to find him, but he didn’t expect her to find him so _fast_. “Hey Gwen! There’s a free spot next to MJ.”

As Gwen took her seat, the table was filled with awkward silence, before Ned piped up. “So like, are we Peter’s Round Table?”

Peter blinked. “What?”

“I mean,” Ned made a fumbling gesture. “We all know about your… side job, right? So like, is this your little council?”

“I guess it could be.” Peter mused.

“And Storm over there could be your consort.” MJ snorted. Gwen choked on her water.

“ _What_?”

Coughing, Gwen waved Johnny off. “I think MJ means ‘partner’. Also, it’d be pretty cool to form a small task force.” She smirked.

“Are you,” Peter glanced at MJ, whose face was coolly blank. “Is MJ fine with you calling her that?”

“Yeah, man.” Gwen’s head titled. “She’s my girlfriend. I can call her whatever I want.”

“ **Wait, what?** ”

The guys did a double-take, before realizing how they reacted. “I mean,” Peter stumbled through a messy explanation. “Nothing wrong with it or anything but— but—” Peter turned to Ned, who was equally confused. “Huh?”

MJ crossed her arms. “I’m not obligated to tell you anything about my love life. I have a girlfriend. So what if you didn’t know?” She rolled her eyes, probably wondering why she put up with idiot boys. “None of your business.”

“Anyway,” Ned cut in. “Round Table?”

“Please don’t make a groupchat with that name.”

“Damn it, Peter, you know me too well!”

* * *

“Hey Johnny?” They were making their way to electives, and Peter was suspicious of how Johnny had the same elective as he did. But that wasn’t what he wanted to ask. “Why’d you move here?”

Stretching, Johnny yawned. “Sue says I gotta meet people my age, which is ridiculous, by the way.” He started playing with the straps of his backpack. “I have plenty of people. I’ve got _you_.” Peter wanted to dissect Johnny’s words, especially the last part.

“But like, how’d you even _get in_?” Peter winced at the wording. _That came out so wrong_.

Blink. “Seriously? What does that mean?”

“That's not what I meant, fuck. I just—”

“I can’t believe you out of all people didn’t think I could make it into your school.”

“What? No! I didn’t say that—”

“Fuck off, Webs. I know you meant it.” Johnny rolled his eyes. “Everyone thinks I’m some _stupid jock_. I expected more from you, _Peter Parker_.”

“That’s not fair! I don’t mean—”

“You knew nobody takes me seriously _’cause no one thought I could handle jackshit_. It was always ‘Johnny, you wouldn’t get it.’ or ‘this is bigger than you, Johnny. We don’t have time for your _ego_.’ I thought you were _cool_ , Peter. I thought you were different. Turns out you’re just like the rest of them. Should’ve known.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Oh yeah? How did you mean it, Parker?” Johnny crossed his arms, seething. The tips of his hair started to smoke. A crowd was starting to gather, but Peter couldn’t give less of a shit about them.

“Well, _excuse me_. I was asking how you managed to transfer when Midtown _isn’t even accepting transferees_. What did you do? Buy your way through?” 

Bad response.

Johnny let out a humorless laugh. “So we’re bringing money into this, now? Of _fucking_ course Peter Parker, the Dumpster Diver, is gonna bring up money!” His eyes gleamed menacingly. “I didn’t use my goddamn money to buy my way in. I passed the entrance exam. Glad to know you assumed my _stupid ass_ cheated my way into your oh-so-prestigious school.”

“I mean, I entered this school _for you_ , and it turned out you didn’t even want me here.” Peter was barely following, but Johnny didn’t give him time to process. “Don’t act like it isn’t true. You were avoiding me the whole day, and I don’t know how _the fuck_ you could be so distant even though we were in the _same classes_. But you were just pretending the whole time, weren’t you? You were pretending to be my friend. Sue probably paid you to get some shit on me.”

“That’s not—”

Johnny’s calloused glare cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. I should've known you’d be like the rest of them.” Storming away (what a terrible pun), he left Peter alone with a crowd of eavesdroppers.

He stood frozen, in the middle.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo was that painful to read? if it was, _**good.**_  
>  i hope to release chapter 3 in a week, but i should probably not make any promises LOL  
> I APPRECIATE YOUR COMMENTS AND KUDOS OMFG YOU GUYS ARE SO SUPPORTIVE OF THIS ASHKSAHFKA


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i humbly apologize for the delay  
> god i hit like, a dead end in a few parts and it took a few days to resuscitate me  
> hope you enjoy :)

Thursday marked the third day since the Walk-Out, and Johnny couldn’t bring himself to go back to school. He knew it was shitty of him to blow up like that, but it just _happened_. The rest of the team didn’t know what’d happened at school; they tried coaxing it out of Johnny, but he refused to budge. It was his business and his business alone. 

Laying on the bed, faced down, Johnny groaned into his covers. It sucked, with what happened at school, but it would suck more to go back and have to deal with the aftermath. 

He wasn’t brave enough to look at his phone during the whole three days he was in isolation. He knew Ned had his number (somehow), and that Ned would give it to MJ, who would probably give it to Gwen. Peter also had his number, but Johnny didn’t think Peter would want to do anything with him, not at the moment. Probably not ever, what with how he exploded.

The thing was, Johnny knew Peter didn’t mean it. Somewhere in his mind. He spent the last few days thinking about the whole thing, and he came to the conclusion that he fucked up. Then again, Peter _did_ act standoffish that day. There may not have been any reason to think Peter didn’t want him there, sure, but there also wasn’t any reason to think Peter _wanted_ him there.

**_(Barely escaping the flock of awestruck students, Johnny took off, excited. He was initially planning on surprising Peter on their first period together, but the crowd outside didn’t allow him to go in. He was spotted, and so he had to improvise._ **

**_Johnny spotted the back of Peter’s figure, all dorky and messy, which honestly, was just so_ ** **him** ** _, wasn’t it? “Hey, Peter! Peter!”_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Peter turned around, and Johnny’s smile widened until he saw the face Peter was making. It just screamed, ‘_ ** **Lord give me mercy and patience to deal with this bullshit.’** **_There were bags under his eyes, and his hair looked like a bird’s nest, but Johnny couldn’t care less. It was so_ ** **Peter** **_and cute, Johnny’s heart couldn’t take it._ **

**_Johnny’s heart also couldn’t take the weariness Peter wore when he looked at him. He felt guilty, looking into Peter's eyes, like he did something wrong. “Aren’t— Did I do something?”_ **

**_“Nope.” Peter gave him a slight grimace, which_ ** **really** **_did not reassure him, but before he could say anything, the dude next to him interrupted. So much for finding out what’s wrong.)_ **

His phone buzzed as another notification popped up. “Fuck it.” Johnny picked up his phone, scrolling through the messages.

Apparently, Ned had been serious about the Round Table, as Johnny saw more than a hundred notifications from the new group chat. Hesitantly, he opened it, scrolling to the oldest messages.

**Ned: so**

**Ned: this is the round table guys**

**Ned: DONT YOU GUYS THINK ITS COOL OMFG**

**MJ: Edward, Peter is crying in the bathroom. Have some tact. Your little Round Table idea can wait for later.**

“Oh damn,” Johnny muttered. Peter was _crying?_ He really fucked up. Reading a little more, he realized it was just Ned and MJ arguing in chat. It felt invasive, seeing two people argue and not being involved in it. 

_That was probably how that crowd felt watching the fight_ _._ Johnny shook his head in an attempt to fight back his thoughts. He reached a section where Peter finally started talking.

**Peter: Hi**

**Gwen: OMFG PETER IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS**

**Gwen: ARE U OK**

**Ned: dude wtf two days since ur self quarantine and all u have to say is “hi”??**

**MJ: They’re right, Parker. You should’ve responded to our texts.**

**Gwen: I CALLED LIKE 78 TIMES**

**Peter: Ik and it was annoying**

**Gwen: Thanks i live to please <3**

**Peter: Annoying** **≠** **pleasant**

Gritting his teeth, Johnny clicked the phone off with more force than necessary. It was horrible, reading the texts and knowing the implications of them. Peter wasn't taking care of himself. He hadn't gone to school for two days, and was AWOL. Uncontactable. _78 missed calls. Goddamn. ~~Your fault. Your fault. YOUR FAULT.~~_

Hearing a knock on the door, Johnny sighed. “Don’t come in.” The person at the door didn’t seem to hear, or more likely, ignored what he said. _Just like everyone else in his life_. Nobody ever listened to what Johnny had to say. 

It was Ben. “Hey kid.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Ben chuckled. “Nah, you’ll always be a squirt in my eyes.”  
  
“Whatever,” Johnny sank deeper into the bed. Soon enough, he was covered in blankets, like a cocoon. “Get out.”

“Jeez, what are you, fourteen? Thought you were done with that teen angst phase?” Ben joked. He didn’t laugh with Ben, which was probably what made him realize something was up. “Alright, kid. What’s goin’ on?”

“God,” Johnny looked up from the pillow he buried his face in, glaring. “Stop calling me a kid. I’m not a child.”

“Okay, seriously. You’re not lookin’ so hot, Pipsqueak.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I wouldn’t tell Sue.”

“You’d tell Reed. And we both know Reed would tell Sue.”

“Promise I won’t tell Reed.”

“Well,” Johnny looked away. “I’m not telling you anyway.”

Ben sighed, knowing he wouldn’t open up. Johnny was bratty that way; although, it would probably be best not to say that to him. They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

“I still want you to get out.”

“Okay.”

* * *

On day six of his self-imposed isolation, Johnny was tempted to talk. He hadn’t seen anyone since Ben came in days before, and it was stifling. That didn’t mean he wanted to talk to _Sue_ , who was the only one home. 

“Where’s Ben?”

Sue looked into the refrigerator. “Out. He’s with Alicia.”

“Reed?”

“He’s working. You know how he gets.” Sighing, Sue faced him, arms crossed. “Look, is it really _so terrible_ that I’m the only one here?”

“Nah, it’s nothing.” Johnny put the couch pillow on his head. Outside of superhero stuff, the Fantastic Four mostly kept to themselves. Johnny knew Ben usually went out with Alicia every week on that day, and Reed almost never goes out of the lab when he works. But he wanted someone to talk to, and he wasn’t gonna talk about anything with _Sue_.

“Ok, let’s cut to the chase.” Sue sat on the couch across from Johnny. Her face told him not to give her any bullshit. “What’s this about?”

“This?” Johnny asked.

“Oh my god,” Sue threw her hands up, exasperated. “Your sulk!”

“It wasn’t a sulk!”

“A brood, then.” She placated, smiling.

“It wasn’t a brood, and it’s _none of your business_.”

Sue straightened up, putting away the cake she was holding. “Johnny, I’m just concerned for you. Since Monday, you’ve been holed up in your room. We’ve been sending you food but you’ve been eating so little. What you’re doing isn’t healthy, Johnny.”

“Since when did you care about my health?” Johnny sulked.

“God, Johnny, I literally took care of you when you were a kid! Of course I care about your health!”

“Well,” Johnny shrugged haphazardly. “You’re not obligated to take care of me anymore. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re such a child.”

 _Oh. Thanks, Sue._ “I’m leaving.”

She sighed. “What time are you gonna be back?”

“Don’t wait up.”

“Where are you even _going_?”

“Patrol, or whatever.”

* * *

He didn’t go on patrol. Instead, he jumped off the balcony, yelling _“flame on!”_ as he desperately hoped not to crash. People assumed Johnny was perfectly confident in his abilities, and Johnny himself liked to ride along with the idea, but truthfully, he was afraid. There were times he panicked and forgot he knows how to _not set things on fire_.

It was scary, being in the air. Not because he was afraid of heights or anything, but he was afraid of being alone with his thoughts. Flying was terrible for escaping the mind. (Johnny found that out when he realized he was alone and moving with no general destination.)

He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Monday. It was so stupid, that Johnny knew he did Peter wrong but still couldn’t bring himself to apologize. Because the things he said that day _weren’t wrong_. It was true that nobody would take Johnny Storm seriously.

Johnny was a deeper well than people assume he is. They forget Johnny wasn’t even in his _20’s_ when he went to space, experienced near death, and woke up the next day with his life turned upside down. He wouldn’t ever be able to know what it’d be like to be a normal teenager. He would never have friends who could _understand_ the problems of being a young superhero.

Well, there was Peter, but Johnny messed up with that one, didn’t he?

It was also true that although _Johnny_ was the one who blew up, Peter wasn’t innocent. Peter really didn’t seem to want him there, and he acted accordingly the whole day. It was infuriating, that Johnny _studied and studied ~~and~~_ ~~ _spent a few sleepless nights_~~ just so he could pass the entrance exam and Peter wasn’t even impressed or anything. Peter wasn’t kidding when he said it was a nerd school, but luckily, Johnny was _smart_.

That was another deep well the media assumed wrong. 

According to several articles and blogs online, Johnny was a brainless musclehead with no room for intelligence in his mind. It was hurtful, of course, but he learned early on to not listen to the tabloids. What he couldn’t ignore, though, was that his _family_ believed the media. 

**_(“Did you know? The Statue of Liberty was supposed to have an older sister by the Suez Canal in Egypt, but it wasn’t approved because it was too expensive.”_ **

_Speaking of older sisters_ _._ **_Johnny snorted at how near Spiderman’s stupid fact was to what was on his mind. Idly, he wondered if Spiderman could read minds. If he could, he would probably be “—a piece of work, aren’t you, Webhead?” Johnny realized how frosted his tone was, but he couldn’t help it._ **

**_“Is something wrong?”_ ** _What an understatement._

 **_“Sue and I got into an argument.” He was about to elaborate, but he thought,_ ** _what if Sue was here?_ **_Johnny wouldn’t not expect her to follow him after he flew out. He threw a few fireballs around, just in case. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”_** _Not talking about it was a good idea just in case Sue was lurking_ _._

**_“That’s alright. Hey, how about I get some pizzas? We can like, chill or something.”_ **

_Chill? Seriously?_ **_“You want to chill with the fire guy?”)_ **

The second time he met Spiderman on top of the Statue, he was hiding from Sue. They had just come back from saving a burning building, and Johnny knew the lecture he was about to get about reckless behavior.

Sue didn’t hear him say “It was an accident!”. Well, if she did, she didn’t believe him. All Johnny got in return was an incredulous stare, and a warning to “not get close to civilians while aflame.”

As if Johnny didn’t know that.

As if Johnny wasn’t being asked to fly to the top, but also do evac.

As if Johnny could do both at the same time.

As if Johnny wasn’t planning to do better.

It was frustrating, to say the least. The conversation grew more heated as Johnny complained he was tired of being treated like a dumbass. Sue didn’t get it. Her powers weren’t dangerous to use haphazardly. She didn’t have to worry every time she used her forcefields about hurting someone if she lost even a _little_ control.

He wasn’t even given the chance to explain himself. Sue was ruthless when she reprimanded people, and Johnny couldn’t hope to defend himself against the fierce nature of Susan Storm.

 _No,_ He shook his head. _Go the fuck away, thoughts_ _._ Johnny spotted the distinct figure of the Statue of Liberty in the distance. _Couldn’t hurt to visit._

* * *

Of course Peter was there. Johnny should've figured it was just his luck for Peter to be sitting there, moping around or something. He wondered if it was too late to turn back— shit, Peter saw him. Too late.

“Oh, hey.” Peter blinked his bleary eyes. Slurring, he said, “The Statue of Liberty is based on the Roman Goddess of Fortune. Did you know that? Her name was Libertas.”

“That’s cool.” Johnny knew Peter knew he was just trying being civil, but he took it as an invitation to continue. 

“Liberty doesn’t mean fortune, though. Liberty means free. Freedom, and something.” 

“Are you drunk?”

Peter pretended not to hear. “And like, everyone keeps fighting to be free like, all the time. But for what? From what? What is _actually_ freedom?”

“God, you’re still such a deep thinker even when you’re intoxicated.” _Wait._ “How are you even drunk? You can’t get drunk. Your Spidey-stomach thingy doesn’t let you.”

Peter shrugged, doing a handstand on one of the Statue’s spikes. Johnny felt his heart drop as his anxiety spiked. “I got some Asgardian booze from Thor after the whole Blip thing. It’s strong.” Pulling out a flask from one of his pockets, he offered some. “Here, you look like you could use a drink.”

Johnny took a swig, but promptly choked as Peter launched himself into a backflip in the air. “You can’t do shit like that, you moron!” 

“Why not?” Peter went back to doing a handstand, but on more stable ground, which eased Johnny’s worry. He thought his heart would finally stop beating so fast, but Peter’s shirt rode up (would it still be riding up if Peter was upside-down?), and Johnny’s blood pressure skyrocketed as he stared at Peter’s midriff.

“It’s bad for my heart.”

“A lot of things are bad for the heart.” Johnny took a step back as Peter slowly approached him. “Fried food. Smoking. Bad vibes.”

“I’m not so sure about that last one.”

“No, it’s true.” Peter looked him in the eye, and the look in his eyes was so _raw._ It caught Johnny off guard how Peter could still _affect_ him like that. “Negativity brings a lot of problems. My therapist says I shouldn’t hold onto bad emotions.”

“You have a therapist?”

Peter snickered. “Gwen. I’m too _broke_ for a therapist, but you knowthat, don't you?” Johnny winced, but Peter didn't notice. “I’m just _broke Peter Parker,_ the _Dumpster Diva_ or some shit _,_ and _obviously_ I’m a plant for your sister to get all your fucking secrets.” Peter laughed harshly. The way he was acting seemed so _wrong_ to Johnny, seeing Peter so angry and hurt and it was his fault ‘cause he said all that shit ~~and he didn’t even _mean it_~~ **—**

“You do know that didn’t even make sense, Johnny? Like, why would your sister want a spy? And even if she wanted one, I would be like, the _shittiest spy ever_. You got to know more of _my_ secrets than I got to know _yours_. You’re an asshole, you know that? I don’t get you. I don’t get why I’m still—” 

“—Look, Peter, I’m _sorry_ , okay? I didn’t mean any of it—”

“—But the thing is,” Peter held up a hand, cutting him off. “You _did_ mean it. I know you did. People don’t just rant and _not mean it_. What I _don’t_ get is what you meant by you entered Midtown for me. What does that mean?”

“It is what it is.” 

“Whatever, fine.” Peter shook his head. “Wait, why’re you even here? Thought you hated me, or something.”

“What? I don’t hate you! I’m just angry.”

“At me.”

“Yes!”

“Fuckin’ knew it, liar.”

“Wait, no! I’m just,” Johnny fidgeted, trying to find the right word. “Angry. In general.”

“I noticed that.” Peter said, unimpressed.

“Fuck,” He groaned. “I— I just, don’t know how I feel, okay? Can you—” Johnny sighed. He _knew_ he was wrong but why couldn’t he just _apologize_? “Can you give me time? I promise I’m not— I just gotta, like, cool off, I guess.”

Peter’s lips quirked into an unsteady smile. “The fire guy needs to cool off?”

“God, Webs, I can’t believe you pulled that on me.”

“You’ve done it too.”

“Well, for me it’s _different_.”

Approaching the edge of the statue, Peter breathed out heavily. “Wanna get lunch on Saturday? We could like, watch a movie after or something.” Blinking, Peter flushed. “Shit, that was _so_ forward.” Giggling, Peter turned around as he got ready to leave. “This Asgardian shit is _strong_. Am I drinking magic?”

“You know,” Johnny started. “I don’t trust you to get home while you’re drunk off your ass. C’mon, I’ll fly you there.”

“But you’re still doing that whole pissy thing!”

“Shit, you make me sound so immature, Pete. I can be angry while making sure you don’t get hit by a truck on your way home. Hop on; I'm your new Delta Airlines, or something.”

* * *

**Gwen: Hey asshole**

**Johnny: i can’t hear you. i’m deaf.**

**Gwen: I’m texting, stupid**

**Johnny: i’ve gone blind too.**

**Gwen: Pick up your phone**

**Gwen: I know ur probs not doin’ so hot**

**Johnny: i’m always hot.**

**Johnny: that’s like, my thing.**

**Johnny: i’m hot.**

**Gwen: Sure, bud**

**Gwen: Anyway**

**Gwen: Wanna talk abt it**

**Johnny: why would i want to talk about it with you?**

**Gwen: Oh wow, ouch**

**Gwen: But like**

**Gwen: I’m a therapist**

**Gwen: U could talk to me**

**Johnny: you’re peter’s therapist.**

**Gwen: “Therapist”**

**Gwen: But also u’ve got patient confidentiality man**

**Gwen: I’m not gonna leak ur secrets**

**Gwen: Anyway hmu if u wanna talk**

Johnny hesitated as his finger hovered over the “call” icon. On one hand, he _really_ wanted to talk to someone. It’d been nearly a week of silence, and he was just ready to burst if he couldn’t let it all out sooner. But on the other hand, Gwen might say some shit he doesn’t wanna hear. _But that’s how "therapy" works, Johnny Storm. Suck it up._

“Hey.”

“So you decided to call me.” Gwen hummed, and the smugness in her voice was so irritating Johnny considered hanging up just then. 

“Figured it couldn’t hurt.” Johnny reached for a pillow. Curling up in his blanket, he asked, “You aren’t gonna repeat any of this anywhere, are you?”

Gwen snorted. “Please. You’re my patient. You have my allegiance and all that shit. I’m not gonna spill.”

“Okay.” They sat in silence for an awkward amount of time as Johnny figured out what he wanted to say. “Do you ever feel like— Like the people closest to you always betray you in the end? I mean, I’m not explaining this well. Shit.”

“Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

“Fine. So, I’m guessing you’ve seen at least one article about me somewhere.”

“Yeah, definitely. You’ve got shitty publicity, man.”

“That’s kind of where it started.” Johnny sighed. “So like, the media always makes me look like an idiot.”

“Very true.”

“And like, I’ve gotten used to it. Kinda normal, now.”

“Dude, that sucks. That sucks _ass_.”

“God, are you gonna keep interrupting me? You’re really bad at this.”

Johnny could just _hear_ Gwen shrug at him. How that happened, through the _phone_ no less, he had no idea. “Dude, I’m not an actual therapist. I’m just here to be your sounding board and give you good advice.”

“Like a therapist.”

“Yes. Well, no. But also yes.” She paused. “Anyway, I won’t fall for that diversion, Jonathan Storm. Back to what you were saying?”

“I was hoping that would work.”

“Stop delaying. Open up.”

“You’re not Sue,” Johnny grumbled, but started talking. It didn’t lighten the heaviness in his heart, but there was _something_ about telling Gwen his frustrations that was… liberating, in a sense. That someone would finally see his side. After years of trying to bring it up with the rest of the Fantastic Four, it was odd that she hadn’t called him out or anything. She hadn't said it was all in Johnny’s head, nor did she tell him to stop thinking about it. Johnny was surprised when she finally said something.

“You are a _person_.” Gwen said softly. “You _are allowed_ to feel those things, and they don’t make you a bad person. _At all._ Johnny Storm, you are a kind soul. A good man. Just because you’re angry at people who look down on you _all your life_ doesn’t mean you’re a teenage dirtbag.”

“But,” Johnny’s voice quivered. _Wuss_. “I’m a hero. We have to be like, happy and shit.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to suppress your emotions. Also, that’s not true. A hero puts on a _brave_ face, not a _happy_ one. Honestly, I’d hate to see a superhero who goes on patrol happy. Like, that's pretty morbid, isn't it?”

Johnny laughed. “Fair.”

“I find it kinda weird that your family doesn’t see you for who you are. You’re smart, Johnny. I know you know that. I saw you in English class. But, you know, you might be looking at it from the wrong angle.”

“Hmm?” Johnny resisted the urge to grit his teeth.

“Not saying you're stupid or anything. Calm your tits." There was a flustered tone in Gwen's voice that made his lips curl. “Your family probably wouldn’t be like that, right Johnny? I’m just gonna venture here, okay? You’re close with them, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“And you’ve lived with them for how long?”

“Since I was a kid. Like, seven or eight years old.

“Well,” Gwen made a vibrating sound. “I think, and this is just my opinion, okay? Don’t take my word for it. I don't think they think you're an idiot, Johnny. I think they just want to keep seeing you as their little kid.”

“But I’m sixteen! I’m not a child anymore!”

“Yeah, but they probably wish you would stay a child. I’m betting you were an adorable kid, though.” Gwen giggled, but it sounded muffled, like she was trying to suppress it with a pillow. If she was, it failed.

Johnny remembered the words Sue had said. **“You are such a child.”** Johnny _isn't_ a child, but Sue forgets he's not an adult either. But they only treated him like an adult when it benefited them. That sobered him up quickly.

“I’m just,” Johnny couldn’t put his thoughts into words. Years of pain and hurts were difficult to put to justice. “So tired. I’m tired of hoping someone would _finally_ , _finally_ see me for who I am. Not for who the public says I am. I want someone to fucking _believe in me_ , or some shit. I thought my family would. Hell, I thought _Peter_ would.”

“Wait.” Gwen’s voice was firm, which made Johnny stop his tangent (and honestly, he wasn’t even planning on _going on_ ). “You think Peter thinks you’re like what the magazines think?”

“That’s a lot of ‘think’ in that sentence.”

“Shush. Answer me.”

“Well,” Johnny flushed. She was really putting him on the spot, there, wasn’t she? “Well— well, I don’t know!”

“I have it on good authority that Peter does _not_ think that.”

“On whose authority?”

“Peter’s.”

Johnny blinked. “Uhm, are you allowed to tell me that?”

“I promised _you_ patient confidentiality, not Peter. I didn’t promise him anything, actually.” Johnny could hear her roll her eyes. Gwen’s snark could be felt from the longest of distances, he realized. Like a morally-ambiguous, sober, female Tony Stark.

Who was he kidding? They’re _both_ morally-ambiguous. 

“What _does_ he think, then?”

“That’s not for me to say,” Gwen said apologetically.

“But you just leaked me information.” Johnny tried to suppress it, but the frustration leaked into his voice. Thankfully, Gwen wasn’t really bothered. The only tell that she acknowledged it was a short placating sound.

“Yeah, because that wasn’t under a promise. The details, though? Sorry bud, you gotta ask him yourself. But I can definitely say he knows you better than the tabloids and stuff.”

“Ugh,” Johnny groaned. “Just tell me your secrets.” He paused, then amended. “His secrets.” _Wait, that sounded wrong._

“It’s really not my place, Johnny. Ask me about anything else, _anything else,_ but not that.”

The line went silent for a while, before Johnny decided the silence was stifling. Taking a breath, he changed the subject. “So, how did you meet Peter anyway?”

Somehow, he could tell Gwen put up her guard again. “I’d rather not say.”

“C’mon, Gwendolyn, I won’t say anything! Even if it’s embarrassing!” Johnny grinned. 

“We’re not talking about it.” Her voice told him it was a line he shouldn’t cross, so he shut up. “Anyway, I think you shouldn’t doubt the way Peter feels about you. You liked hanging out with him, right?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And how did it feel to be around him? Like, could you be yourself around him?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. ‘Cause like, Peter’s a cool dude, y’know? There’s just something about him that makes me feel… _warm_.” Johnny heard Gwen snort at the word choice. “I don’t know, man. It’s just, he’s different. I know what I said about him not being different, but— _damn it, Gwen, what the fuck am I supposed to do?_ ”

“Well, don’t you think it’s worth a risk?” Gwen paused. Johnny assumed she was composing her thoughts. “Nobody ever really knows what’s inside people’s minds— well, except telepaths— but do you trust him? I think you should trust that Peter knows who the _real_ you is, not whatever version of you people say you are.”

“I know that!” Johnny yelled. His hair was starting to spark, and he was having a really hard time controlling himself so he wouldn’t start another fire. “Don’t you think I know that, Gwen? I don’t get why if I _know that,_ I still feel like a wet pile of human garbage!”

Both of them paused, collecting themselves. Johnny felt the strong tension on the line before Gwen asked the question he hoped no one asked. “Are you sure you’re actually angry at Peter?”

“What?”

“I—” Gwen hesitated. “Just ask yourself that. Honestly, Johnny, I don’t know what else I can tell you. This feels like something you have to answer on your own. I can’t give you an actual answer, sorry.”

“Whatever, don’t answer me. Thanks a lot, Gwen,” he grumbled, putting down the phone. He didn’t know if he wanted to yell or cry ‘cause everything’s _so confusing_. He’d have to thank Reed later for installing a fireproof bed, as he went under the covers and set himself on fire. (To anyone who didn’t know Johnny’s the Human Torch, that’d probably sound concerning.) 

Fire was a great escape from his problems. Not that he’d become an arsonist or anything, but there was something therapeutic about just letting himself go. When Johnny’s around people, he gets terrified of accidentally losing control, but under the safety blanket, he didn’t have to _hold back_. Then again, there’s a limit to how long the blanket could hold. Johnny couldn’t stay under there for too long, or the blanket would char, and Sue would scold him.

Sue could get terrifying at times.

He thought going out of control would help, but even after an hour of burning, Johnny still felt like he was swimming in his own head. Was Gwen right? Did he really have to like, _reflect?_

"Goddamnit," He muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my document, i noticed a little too late that i wrote like, 3-4 pages of dialogue, but i liked the essence of it way too much to change it LOLOL  
> my school's started back on monday so the next chapter may be late, but istg i'm not abandoning this fic like FOR REAL  
> i hoped you liked that chapter! next time we'll see better action and less dialogue (hopefully)  
>  **btw does anyone wanna like beta for me email me if ur interested (email's in my profile)**
> 
> **update (08/28): i'm getting swamped w work so the next chapter may come out early september :( sorry abt that**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok here's a full update  
> stay tuned for the next chapter coming (sometime this year)  
> I AM SO SO SORRY FOR THIS REALLY LATE FINISHED CHAPTER LIKE OMFG 2 MONTHS TO COMPLETE ONE CHAPTER THAT'S RLLY SAD

Grand Central Station was a bitch to navigate. The sea of people kept pushing back on Johnny as he tried to move towards the terminal for the 7-Line, and Johnny was about done with it.

Johnny figured Peter had a knack for running late. Last time they’d made plans, Peter had been half an hour behind; although, it wasn’t really his fault, what with the whole station incident. but Johnny was getting impatient. 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet Peter again. Johnny knew Peter was drunk off his ass when he asked him for a ~~DATE? DID PETER REALLY ASK HIM ON A DATE~~ hangout, but Johnny hoped he still meant it. 

_Peter might not even come._ Johnny realized. _He could’ve decided to not show up._

It's for the best to not think about it.

 _But that’s what you get. You made Peter upset. He cried because of you. Do you even deserve to still be friends with him? All you’ve done for Peter is make him miserable. Get away from Peter, or you’ll just keep hurting him_ —

He shut his eyes, breathing in slowly. _No point thinking about what’s happened. Just make amends_. Quickly, he opened his phone to his message thread with Peter.

**Johnny: hey wru.**

**Peter: OMG SORRY WAIT**

**Peter: Ok so I’m running a little late**

**Peter: This old lady needed help carrying her bags and like**

**Peter: I couldn’t just leave her be**

**Peter: I swear I’m really near like, 20 mins tops**

**Johnny: which terminal do i wait at?**

**Peter: What?**

**Peter: I walked**

**Johnny: so, youre telling me ive been at grand central waiting for NOTHING.**

**Peter: I’m so sorry omg I swear I’ll make it up to you**

He sighed out loud. Peter’d _better_ make it up to him; Johnny didn’t show up early and wait for just _anyone_. 

Although, that implies Peter’s one of a kind.

Hell _yeah_ , he’s one of a kind.

It was still frustrating that he was waiting and Peter wasn’t even coming from the train system. Did Peter know how stuffy it was? Everything was so busy and rushed, and Johnny didn’t get how people dealt with it. 

More importantly, how did Peter deal with it? Johnny would totally offer to like, drive Peter anywhere, but he figured that would be too coddling. 

Feeling his phone vibrate, he checked the latest notification. Peter sent him a message to meet at the cafe instead. But then, why didn’t they just decide to meet at the cafe in the first place? Why did Johnny go to the Subway?

Distinctly, he could hear something Sue said when he was younger. **_(“Don’t just wait for someone if you’re going out with them, Johnny. It’s more gentlemanly to go get them beforehand.)_ **

Peter wouldn’t have appreciated him turning up at his apartment, though, so the subway was the next best thing. But then, it turned out _Peter wasn’t using the subway._ Johnny was only _slightly_ annoyed as he walked to the cafe. The wide-eyed looks from passerby told him he was steaming. Or that he had more fans than he thought.

The first thing he did when he arrived at the small cafe was get a seat by the window. He figured Peter would appreciate the view, plus, it would be easier to spot crime from a vantage point. As Alastor Moody once said, “constant vigilance!”

And Peter says he’s not cultured. _Hah_.

Johnny noticed the moment Peter stepped into the place. It was upsetting. “Goddamn it, Johnny,” he muttered to himself, “you’re so obsessed.” Pausing, he realized what he said.

“Wait, I’m not obsessed. We’re not dating. We’re _not_ dating!”

“Who’s not dating?” 

He jolted. Peter was standing next to him, and somehow, he didn’t notice. Johnny made a motion for Peter to get on the other one-seater. “Nothing, nothing. It’s nobody.”

Beckoning over a server, Peter quirked an eyebrow. “Everyone knows when you say it's nothing, there's something going on.”

“Nah,” Johnny said, brushing it off. Peter clearly wanted to push the topic, but to Johnny’s relief, the server came by. 

Huffing, Peter pouted as they ordered their drinks. “You know,” he started, “I’ve been dying to try this place for a while, but I’ve never really had the money to order.”

“Is this your way of telling me you can’t pay for the bill? I mean, no problem! I can cover you.”

“What? No!” Peter’s vigorous head-shaking was so cute; Johnny’s heart melted. Johnny could feel his face redden as he tried to keep himself out of his head. 

“Then why’d you say that?”

“I don’t know, actually. I guess I just wanted you to know I used my savings for this,” He mumbled.

It should’ve made Johnny feel honored, but he just felt bad. “You know you could’ve used those for something else. I’d be more than happy to cover the bill,” Johnny frowned. Realizing Peter probably took that as Johnny criticizing his financial situation, he amended, “not that I’m flexing my money or anything! It’s just, let’s be real here, between the two of us, I’m the one with more to throw around.”

Sighing, Peter slumped on the couch. “I get it. I _get_ that, but I’m just—” He groaned, seemingly trying to convey his thoughts properly. “I’m used to people talking shit about my… money thing. So like, it’s weird with people being, well, nice about it.”

They sat in awkward silence for a while, until the server came to their table with their orders. “A large caramel macchiato and a hot chocolate.”

Johnny stared at Peter as he picked up the hot chocolate. “Seriously? This is a cafe you’ve wanted to try for a while and you order _chocolate_?”

“Don’t judge me!” 

“I’m not!” He placated. “I just thought you’d get something more… adventurous.”

“It’s cause—” Peter looked sideways, like he was checking if the server was out of hearing-range. “It’s the only thing I can afford!” He hissed.

Johnny wilted at that. It wasn’t fair to assume that Peter could get whatever he wanted like Johnny could. _Wait_. “I could get you something!” He was sure Peter would refuse, but Johnny wasn’t gonna let him.

“I already have a drink, though.”

Waving it off, Johnny said, “Your Spidey-metabolism can handle two drinks.” Before Peter could refuse him, he called the server again. “Could we get a— what do you want, Pete?”

Begrudgingly, Peter looked through the menu. “Fine, a vanilla frappuccino.”

 _No fucking_ _way_.

“Could we get a large Kopi Luwak?” He smirked at Peter’s betrayed look. Johnny knew Peter was gonna scold him later for utterly contradicting his order, but it was well worth it. (Plus, Peter deserved nice things.) It was difficult, though, trying not to laugh out loud, but Peter wouldn’t appreciate his schadenfreude, so he kept quiet. Well, he tried.

They sat in silence once again, but it wasn’t as awkward as before. Johnny could tell Peter was still (adorably) pouting and it took so much of his strength not to stare. 

“What are _you_ lookin’ at?” 

Johnny realized how weird he probably looked. _Don’t tell him you were staring._ “I zoned out.”

Peter snorted. “I can’t believe you got the most expensive thing on the menu. I said get me a frappuccino. You didn’t order a frappuccino, Johnny.” 

“But the Kopi Luwak is good!”

“I didn’t ask you to get me one.”

“Too late,” Johnny sing-songed smugly. “You’re gonna drink it, and you’re not gonna complain ‘cause it’s good.” As if on cue, the server came back with the order. Johnny could tell by Peter’s face that he was conflicted between drinking it and proving Johnny wrong. 

His smug grin grew wider as Peter took a sip. “God,” Peter groaned. “It’s good.”

“I told—” 

“If you dare finish that thought, I will drown you in the East River.”

“Noted.”

* * *

In Johnny’s opinion, things were going great. Despite Peter’s initial indignance, he seemed like he was having fun. They had gone to the Theater to watch a Star Wars movie, and Peter was stewing with complaints the whole time. Johnny had to remind him that they were still in a cinema, and he was supposed to whisper. (He had to hide the smile on his face when Peter went on a quiet but furious tangent on the _goddamn bullshit Rian Johnson came up with—)_

“And I can’t believe they did that! “ **Need a ride?** ” Seriously? Eat my fucking ass, Rian Johnson!” Seemingly, although Peter barely suppressed his fury inside the cinema, he sure felt free to let out his rant with full volume outside.

People were starting to stare, but Peter didn't really notice, too caught up in his stewed annoyance. Johnny stifled his laugh with a well-timed cough. Peter probably wouldn’t have appreciated him giggling, so he had to turn away, or Peter would see his smile. “Why’d you wanna see the movie if you hated it so much?”

“Because,” Peter groaned. “Everyone was talking about how trashy it was but I haven’t been able to see it! I wanted to know why no one liked it!”

“Was it worth it?” Johnny honestly didn’t know anything about Star Wars. When Peter suggested the movie, he readily agreed, but inwardly he admitted he just went with it ‘cause Peter wanted it. 

“No.” Peter sniffled. Was he crying _?_

“Uhm,” Johnny fumbled. He wasn’t sure what to do, ‘cause it never really happened before. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Peter looked away, staring at the busy New York streets. “I got caught in the moment.”

_Cute._

“Okay, then. Where do you wanna go now?” Johnny should’ve planned further. (He had a 27 step plan for taking Peter on a date, but it was under the premise that Peter would date him, and that would obviously never happen.) “I was thinking we could hit up Times Square or something.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. Johnny’s primitive brain wouldn’t shut up about Peter’s gorgeous mouth. It was difficult, reining in his emotions, but it was a necessary part of being the Human Torch. If he got too emotional, he tended to combust, so Johnny had to figure out how to shut off his feelings.

_But you didn’t shut off your feelings for Peter. You didn’t want to._

Why couldn’t his brain just keep to itself? “Is that a yes?”

“I mean, I can’t really think of anything else.” The way Peter phrased it made Johnny nervous. Did he not wanna go, but just couldn’t say no? He hoped that wasn’t the case, but if Peter really didn’t wanna go, he should probably make sure.

“Are you sure Times Square is okay? I mean, it’s kinda boring and like, everyone goes there. I know it’s probably not the best place to go on a da—” Johnny cut himself off. _Don’t say date, Johnny._ “While we’re out.”

Peter turned to him, frantic. “No, no! Times Square is totally cool! Like, we could, uhm,” Peter twiddled his fingers, which made Johnny question why he was infatuated with a _toddler._ “People-watch?” 

They both cringed at the suggestion. 

“We’re not creeps, Pete. You’re right; let’s do something else.” Johnny started thinking of places they could visit. Rockefeller Center was a definite no; the Empire State Building was boring; and who the fuck goes to Madison Square Garden on a ~~date~~ ? _Maybe go with something basic._ “How about the mall?” _Too basic, idiot._

“That works.” Peter shrugged, and it made Johnny anxious. Was he just saying it to appease him? Was it too boring? Shit, primitive Brain Johnny was right, it _is_ basic. 

“But wait, I don’t know. Maybe the mall isn’t such a good idea, I mean, lots of people and it’s probably boring and—” Peter cut him off.

“I said let’s go to the mall, Johnny,” He huffed. “I didn’t know you ramble; that’s usually my thing.” Peter’s words made Johnny redden. He hadn’t used to ramble at all, but something about Peter just made his brain freeze. He wasn’t sure what he felt about it. 

“I— Well, I don’t—” He was absolutely certain Peter could see Johnny’s brain leak out his ears. “I don’t ramble!”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Anyway,” Johnny stressed, trying to hide his reddening face. “We’re going to the mall, right?” He tried ignoring Peter’s smile, no doubt at his bad attempt at changing the topic.

“Of course, Johnny.” He definitely noticed.

* * *

He didn’t expect it to be chilly in the mall. Like, it was kinda embarrassing; the Human Torch, getting cold? That’d make the headlines, for sure. Peter must’ve noticed his shivering, ‘cause he offered Johnny his jacket. Something so casual shouldn’t have made his heart flutter, but it did. It wasn’t necessarily a tight fit, ‘cause Peter wore oversized ( _which was so adorable,_ ) but the smell of Peter on him was just. Too much. 

“Are you hungry?” Johnny asked. He couldn’t bring himself to look in Peter’s direction, but it’s the thought that counts. “We could stop by the food court or something.”

Peter shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine.”

“No,” Johnny shook his head. “You’ve got your Spider Hunger. We’re going to McDonalds.”

Johnny couldn’t see it, but he could practically feel Peter bristle. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Just as Peter spoke, his stomach growled. _Way to prove a point, Peter_.

“You were saying?”

“Fine.” 

Peter grumbled all the way to the nearest McDonalds branch, which turned out to not be near at all. Johnny would’ve suggested to go for something else, but he was really craving a Big Mac. When they got to the place, the first thing Johnny noticed was the line. The long ass line. “Who goes to McDonalds at three in the afternoon?”

“Well,” Peter drawled. “We do, and so do they.”

“That’s besides the point, Pete!” Johnny whined like a whiny white girl who whines. Pretty unattractive of him. “This is gonna take forever!”

Peter sighed. “I can stay in line. Go find a spot or something.” That made Johnny squirm. He asked Peter to go to McDonalds; it wasn’t fair for Peter to be the one lining up in a standstill. Seriously though, three in the afternoon?

Reluctantly, Johnny scouted for some seats. The place was filled, (which was kinda weird,) but Johnny settled for the window seats. He found it kind of awkward, waiting for something to happen. Pulling out his phone, he decided to check his messages. Turns out, Gwen and MJ, whom Johnny had been silently calling Gwen-J, have been sending him messages for the past few hours. Mostly Gwen, though, ‘cause MJ doesn’t spam-text him.

**Gwen: Omg did u do it yet**

**Gwen: I placed my bets on u ok**

**Gwen: Don’t u fucking dare make me lose 20$**

**Johnny: what did you bet on?**

**Johnny: wait.**

**Johnny: who are you betting with.**

**Gwen: Anyway**

**Gwen: Did u kiss him yet**

**Johnny: holy shit no of course not.**

**Gwen: BUT WHY**

**Johnny: i’m not desperate enough to kiss peter while we’re hanging out.**

**Gwen: Right**

**Gwen: “Hanging out”**

**Gwen: Ur full of shit Johnny**

**Johnny: we’re hanging out. omfg gwen.**

**Gwen: Why do u type like a boomer tryin 2 relate 2 kids**

**Johnny: shut up.**

**Gwen: Zoomer**

**Gwen: JOHNNY STORM IS A ZOOMER YALL**

**Johnny: i’m blocking you.**

**Gwen: No u aren’t**

**Gwen: You wouldn’t dare**

Snickering, Johnny blocked her number. He wouldn’t keep it that way, of course, but he liked riling Gwen up. Suddenly, he got a call from MJ which was weird ‘cause MJ never calls. Or talks to him. Ever.

Picking up the phone, Johnny said, “What’s up?”

“Somebody’s complaining about a certain someone blocking her.” _MJ really gets to the point._

“Does this somebody have a name?” Johnny drawled. He should’ve expected the yelling in the background.

“Unblock me, asshole!” Gwen yelled. “I didn’t think you would actually do it!”

“I’m a man of my word.” 

Abruptly, Gwen ended the call. Johnny got the foreboding sense that something was gonna happen, and _fuck_ was he right. Suddenly, he got spam messages from _every app on his phone._ How someone could spam ping him on the Clock app, he didn’t know, but Johnny was hasty to stop it.

Scrambling to unblock Gwen, he wondered how Gwen managed to do that. “Probably got Ned to do it.” He muttered. As soon as he tapped the unblock button, all the spam suddenly vanished. Maybe he had a poltergeist on his phone, or something. 

**Gwen: Hah**

**Johnny: seriously? you got ned to do all that just so i would unblock you?**

**Gwen: What**

**Gwen: I just yelled at you**

**Johnny: the fuck.**

**Johnny: who did that shit to my phone.**

**Gwen:** **¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

**Gwen: Wot r u talking abt**

**Johnny: who the hell did this shit.**

**Gwen: Dk**

**Gwen: Thats freaky**

**Gwen: Anyway**

**Gwen: Kiss the boy**

**Johnny: i will fucking not.**

**Gwen: "i will fuck** **~~ing not~~."**

He was tempted to block Gwen again, but a voice in the back of his mind whispered  _ fuck no _ . Super bad idea. Like, Star Wars Episode VIII level of a bad idea. Gwen would probably hunt him down for even the thought of it. Thinking back to his conversation with Gwen, Johnny wondered if he really  _ should  _ do something with Peter.

On one hand, Johnny's been getting some odd vibes from Peter since the start of the, well, whatever they were doing. He was being weirdly clingy, not that Johnny was complaining. In the theater, he insisted they share a bucket of popcorn, and Johnny wasn't sure if he believed Peter when he said it was to cut costs. Even after the movie, he was touchier than usual. Well, Peter was usually not touchy  _ at all _ , so it was a surprise.

Then again, could he really afford to interpret them as a go signal? Johnny fucked up their friendship once already. 

That sobered him up.

_ Don't think about it _ , he decided. Johnny looked around, surveilling the people around him. Weird enough, there was a lot of room in the McDonalds branch they were in. His heart warmed at the sight of the happy chatter. This. This was what he fought for. 

A lot of people ask him (especially during interviews) why Johnny risks his life as a teenage superhero. He never really gave a straight answer, but really, it was for the people. Johnny wanted them to be able to enjoy their lives without having to worry about crime, intergalactic or not. He wanted to see children playing with each other, not fearing for their lives. He wanted people to graduate college and not worry about their campus being bombed. He wanted peace.

The warm feeling he felt quickly got washed away at the sight of a booth near him. Three guys were staring at him in that really creepy “I’m gonna eat your entrails” way. It unnerved Johnny, but not as much as the knives strapped on one of them. They didn't seem to be carrying much, but Johnny's experienced eyes could tell they were hiding a lot of weapons. 

As if on cue, Peter came to their table with a tray, seemingly not noticing the men gazing at them. The killing intent was so heavy, even civilians around them were starting to get uncomfortable. How the hell was Peter so _oblivious?_ “Peter, don’t you think we should—”

“Don’t look at them.” Peter said as he set the tray down, picking up a few fries. Chewing, he elaborated, “if they know you know, they’re gonna do something about it. Pretend you don’t see them.” 

“It’s disgusting that you haven’t swallowed before talking.”

“Well, I don’t swallow. Unless it’s you.” Peter winked, and Johnny didn’t know how to respond to that. His brain short-circuited, to the point that he momentarily forgot about the guys radiating murder vibes. “Fuck, that didn’t even make sense. _God._ Should’ve been ‘a sip of you’ or something. You’re so bad at this, Peter,” he muttered, probably not noticing how loud his voice was. 

Johnny’s face reddened as he tried to stumble through some sort of reply. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he changed the topic. “Should we finish our food quickly?”

“No,” Peter said, taking a bite out of his burger. “That’s suspicious. Just pretend we’re making small talk and getting a snack. Y’know, like normal teenagers.” Johnny found it scary that Peter was so practiced at this.

Hesitantly, Johnny asked, “How do you know to do all this?”

“Tony taught me a few things, but that’s not the point.” Peter glanced out the window, seemingly looking out the street. Johnny knew better. He was scouting for the enemy; backup could be anywhere, and risks are not an option. 

Despite the situation, Johnny took a look at his burger. Suddenly, it didn’t look so appetizing anymore. He could feel the weight of the stares coming at their table, and it was difficult _not_ to look. Johnny had to give Peter credit; he was a better actor than he looked. Peter didn’t look concerned at all. If anything, he looked bored, but Johnny knew differently, ‘cause Peter had a tell. He was taping his hands on the desk, and that didn’t happen often. 

Johnny didn’t even notice he had spaced out until Peter tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey,” Peter started. “Are you ready to go?” Johnny looked down, realizing he finished his burger already. Did he dissociate? 

“Sure thing.” He said, still keeping himself from looking back. “I’ll meet you in the car?” _Watch the dudes from outside?_

Peter nodded. “Yeah, gimme a moment, though. Gotta use the restroom.” _You do it. I’m gonna watch them from here._

Johnny was reluctant to walk out the door, especially because he was leaving Peter with the creeps. Peter’s strong; he knew that. He knew Peter could probably knock them out, but what if they had powers? What if they had a hostage? God, what if they had a bomb? So many things could happen, and Johnny’s just gonna _leave Peter there_. 

As he walked out the door, he cast a quick glance back. Peter was making his way to the restroom, but the guys didn’t follow him. Hell, they weren’t even looking in Peter’s direction; they were looking at _him_ . Shit. Johnny should’ve known better. He was the one who was out as a superhero _and_ an idol so he had double the targets on his back. 

_Shut up. Peter would burn your corpse if you ever implied that to his face._ Johnny should trust Peter more; he knew what he signed up for when he joined the superhero community. Peter’s probably dealt with worse situations anyway, so it really wasn’t Johnny’s place to be concerned. 

Not that he was.

 _Hah, liar._

From his vantage point, which was a bench outside the building, he glanced back at the window. The creeps were gone. Johnny cursed, scrambling to look for Peter, who was probably fighting or kidnapped, and Johnny wasn’t sure which he’d prefer. As he ran in the McDonalds, he noticed how the customers and staff were frazzled. 

“What’s going on?”

“The— the guys!” A cashier whimpered, staring uneasily at the restroom. _Shit._ “They were tryna get some dude in the restroom, and like— oh my god, this is so fucked up.” Johnny wanted to take pity on them, but there were pressing matters.

Turning to the customers, he asked, “What did they do?” The crowd didn’t respond at first, just looking at each other, like a horrible version of _no you do it!_ After a little hassling between them, a little boy shakily gestured at the cashier.

“There’s a bomb,” he whispered. “They have a bomb, and they have—” Cutting off, he sobbed into his arms. At that point, Johnny had to note how there were significantly less people than when he and Peter first noticed the creeps. That meant either a lot of civilians suddenly gained teleportation powers, or they’re being held hostage. Based on the kid’s behavior, Johnny assumed it was the second thing. _Double shit._

Breathing in and out slowly, Johnny considered the options. He could negotiate with them, but from the way they behaved, he had to assume they had a personal vendetta against either him or Peter, most likely him. It didn’t sound like a smart idea to barter lives with people who despised him, so Johnny ruled that out. He could barge in, but they would probably shoot someone for that. He had to play it cool; play it smart.

He could feel the body signatures inside the restroom. 

Heat. 

Could he suck away the body heat of the creeps? Johnny didn’t know, and he didn’t know if he wanted to find out. It would probably cause hypothermia, and could definitely be lethal, but Johnny didn’t wanna be a killer. There has to be something else he can do.

Carefully making his way to the restroom, he tried listening for any sign of conversation. There wasn’t much of a sound, but the hostages (or the heat signatures he assumed were hostages) were flaring up. Their body temperatures were rising, and that wasn’t a good sign. One of the first things Johnny learned when he found out he could sense temperature is how temperature adjusts with emotions. Flared up temperatures usually meant fear, anger, or satisfaction. Johnny was pretty sure it wasn’t the last one.

There was one signature that caught his attention. One of the bodies was losing body temperature, and Johnny was pretty sure a hostage situation didn't trigger emotions that were associated with lessened body temperature. That meant something was happening. 

Edging towards the door, he could make out a gruff voice. “Let this serve as a warning to you. Defiance will only bring consequences. This young boy took action, and so we responded. If any of you even try something, we will take action.”

 _Triple shit. This is a banana split of shit. A banana shit._

Lucky for Johnny, the door was open just a crack. Peeking inside, he felt his blood run cold. Johnny saw the body with the decreasing temperature. 

Peter was bleeding out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh~
> 
> i thrive on your WAP (worship and praise) in the comments  
> be sure to leave kudos if you liked this!  
> no matter how horrible i am at updating, i promise to continue the fuck out of this  
>  **  
> **  
> decided to post in full rather than sections next chapter bc i'm conning y'all and it's confuzzling as hell in hindsight


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I TOLD YOUUUU  
> DECEMBER 31 BB  
> i didnt think id make it to my self-appointed deadline, but i _did_ and im happy abt that  
> anyway  
> enjoy!! i had a super fun time writing this specific chapter

How Johnny didn’t smell the strong scent of blood in the air was a mystery, but what was more of a mystery was how Peter was still alive. From what he saw with just a peek through the door, he could see _so many knives_. The amount of blood on the floor was definitely enough to fill a few milk cartons, not that Johnny wanted to test that out.

It was probably Peter’s healing factor. His metabolism. Thank god Peter had just eaten, or his body would probably not have had the energy to heal him. For what inconvenience it’s caused in the past, Peter's metabolic rate sure came in handy in the situation they were in. His body was likely healing the wounds rapidly, but that wasn’t necessarily good; they’d heal on the knives. 

It was horrible not being able to rush in, but Johnny needed to stay composed. Or, at least keep his freak out internal. Instead, he called Ned.

"Ned," He tried keeping the panic out of his voice, but he was probably failing at that. "There's something going on. I need you to call Tony Stark. Or his aunt. Wait, no, that'd just freak her out and I don't know how she can help but fuck Ned, I need _someone_ here at the Mcdonalds by Park Ave." 

"Huh? What's going on?" Ned sounded worried, which meant Johnny's fear definitely bled into his voice more than he wanted. 

"We've got a situation. Some sus looking creeps, and Peter's kind of—" Johnny didn't know how to say it. "Drained." _In more ways than one_. "Anyway, mute your mic. I'll keep this call on so you hear what's going on." Not waiting for a reply, Johnny put his phone in his back pocket. He tried calming himself, but his body wouldn't respond. His fingers were trembling; his breath was getting erratic. He'd never had these high stakes before: a room full of hostages and a partner who was ~~dying~~ unconscious.

Johnny's blood was thumping at an unsteady, alarming beat. On and on and on, to the point that it was all he could hear. His heart was hammering on his ribs, and it was almost painful to bear. But there wasn't anything he could do about it. _Focus_. There were about twenty hostages in his sight, but he could only see two of the guys. The first one was holding some sort of device, while the other had a gun to one of the hostages' heads. 

"You," the dude adjusted the gun to drag along the side of her neck. "Are my collateral. If this boy," _Peter_ , "tries any funny business again, well, it's your loss." He smiled cruelly. His face wasn't familiar, but there was something about him that made Johnny think he'd seen him before. He's definitely seen him before. He could recognize something in the guy's eyes, malicious and conspiring. His face was a mess of scars too; that was definitely a distinctive feature. He couldn't place it, and he didn't have time to either. The guy's eyes locked in on him.

The hand holding the gun shifted, aiming towards her temple. The man smiled. "Nice of you to join us, Mr. Storm." 

"You should let her go." Johnny's voice didn't waver, which was a wonder. Johnny could see the fear in the woman's eyes. Neither of them knew if the man would fire. Neither of them wanted to find out.

"I assume you heard me previously?" The man's eyebrow quirked. "Well, what I said applies to you too. Come any closer, and it won't be pretty. Will you comply?"

 _Fuck._ This was a tricky situation, but Johnny really had no choice. _Play it smart._ "Fine." He gritted his teeth.

"I'm sure you're wondering a lot of things. Do you have any questions?"

"Why are you doing this? Don't you have better things to do?"

"Ah, a smartass." The guy hummed, like he was taking a stroll. "Do you remember that fire last year? South Williamsburg?"

"I remember." The woman the Fantastic Four was chasing, an arsonist, was setting fires to a bunch of buildings. When they'd arrived at the scene, the building was a bright mess. The apartment building was filled with charred corpses. "It was a horrible tragedy."

The man's face clenched. "Is that all you have to say? It was a tragedy? My wife was in that building! My wife and my—" he choked on his words. Johnny thought he could see the guy tear up." _Sarah. Philip._ They were in that building. Becca was _pregnant,_ but— not the point. The woman, you didn't catch her."

The names were familiar to him. He remembered them, having written the report. (The rest of the team had a lot on their plate; Johnny figured writing the report was the least he could do.) Rebecca Hewitt was right at the core of the fire, along with her children. They had encountered the arsonist readying a flame, later found with mutilated, charred bodies. In front of him, Hewitt was grasping for control over his emotions. His hold on the gun was loosening, so Johnny took the chance.

"That's on us," Johnny started. "but why're you taking it out on them? It was our fault, but they had nothing to do with it. How about you let her go? We can—" he took a step forward.

_Bang._

"I told you, didn't I?" Hewitt tutted, cool mask back on. The woman's body slumped on the floor, blood pooling around her. All Johnny could smell is the scent of metal. Blood. Guilt. _Hisfaulthisfaulhisfault_ _—_ "Let that be a warning for you to follow. My. Instructions. Not like you can afford not to!" He barked out a harsh laugh. 

'Now," Hewitt came closer to Johnny, brandishing a knife. "Stay still. This'll only be a moment." His smile was bright and sinister, like when a storm comes while the sun is still shining. Hewitt's hand brushed against his cheek, which was honestly pretty creepy in a pedophilic way. The hand started roaming, making Johnny shudder as Hewitt trailed the knife along the length of his neck.

The loud crumbling of the bathroom wall interrupted them.

“God, a child molesting terrorist, Storm? The fuck do you kids get yourselves into these days?” Stark snarked. The guy sounded flippant, but his whole demeanor said something else. Based on his body language, Stark was angry. No doubt he noticed Peter’s barely-living body slumped on the floor. 

He’d never seen Tony Stark in superhero mode. Johnny’d only ever seen him at socialite gatherings he was forced to attend. That version of Stark was always the life-of-the-party, and yet so calm and collected at the same time. Like he was judging every action and reaction. Iron Man was different.

Despite his flippancy, Johnny could tell the man meant business. He didn’t seem happy finding his intern/son figure bleeding out, angry like a mama bear. There was something about his whole demeanor that made everything feel all the more tense. Johnny would’ve found humor in Hewitt’s inevitable beatdown Tony Stark style, but honestly? He was still in shock.

The lady, he couldn’t stop staring at her body. Her face was still, relaxed in the way dead bodies are. She had her mouth open, like she was _about to let out a scream but—_ Her wound was still bleeding, which made Johnny feel sick and horrible. He should’ve done something; no, he _shouldn’t_ have done anything. She would’ve been alive if he didn’t _fuck up so badly_. The woman, the last thing she did was make eye contact with Johnny. He saw the trust in her eyes. He saw the fear. The panic.

**_(“Hey John?”_ **

**_“Yeah Reed?”_ **

**_“Have you ever thought about why you wanted to become a superhero?”_ **

**_Johnny had. Long and hard, on the days he felt like quitting. “Yeah.” He smiled. “I wanna make people happy. Like, when people have bad days, I want to be able to make it better.)_ **

Her eyes had pooled with tears of relief. A hero came by, so she wasn’t gonna die that day. She probably had so much to live for. Family. Friends. Loved ones. Johnny stared blankly at the corpse. She wasn’t supposed to die.

**_(“I want to be like a light in their darkness, if that makes sense? I don’t want them to have to be afraid again.)_ **

The moment Hewitt fired the bullet, Johnny saw her face. He saw the rapid transformations. It went from relief to disbelief to fear to hatred. He saw the way she looked at him. He was supposed to save her.

**_(“I don’t want people to worry anymore. I don’t want people to be scared of getting hurt by some shitty people, y’know? You get it right, Reed?”)_ **

Johnny saw all the possibilities. He saw at least fifty different ways he could’ve done things differently. He saw even more ways Peter could have done it better. Peter wouldn’t have let it escalate to what it became. It wasn’t supposed to be that way.

Distantly, Johnny heard people talking. He could make out the voices of Stark and his sister. _God, his sister_. Why did she have to be there? Johnny just _knew_ Sue would use this to prove that he wasn’t responsible enough to be a superhero, but what did he care? She’d be right, anyway. Johnny didn’t deserve to be anyone. All his decisions blow up in his face. He let Peter go alone; boom, he’s pale unconscious on the floor. He chanced a negotiation; bang, the woman, _God he didn’t even know her name—_ she ended up dead.

"Johnny?" He heard a voice ask tentatively. Vaguely, he could recognize it was Sue's, but for some reason it didn't really click. "Are you holding up okay?"

He didn't know how to answer that, so he said nothing.

"Johnny," Sue started. "You couldn't have known what was gonna happen."

"Yes I could." He rasped. Johnny didn't think his voice would be so shaky, but he sounded more choked up than he thought he would. "Shouldn't have risked it. I should've known he would— I thought he was gonna drop the gun."

"It wasn't your fault," She said weakly. Johnny thought she sounded like she didn't believe it. Well, to be fair, Johnny didn’t, either. 

"Sure," He sighed. "Not my fault." He wished he could believe that. Whatever Sue said next, Johnny tuned it out. There wasn't really anything she could say that would make him feel better. But he didn't want to keep talking about the woman. "How's Peter?"

"Peter?" Sue frowned, then realized who he was talking about. "Oh, you mean the kid on the floor? Stark's taking care of him; poor thing, he lost a lot of blood. As far as I know, they're on the way to their medical bay." 

"Can I— can I see him?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Johnny." Sue said, but Johnny ignored her. Getting up from the floor, he tried remembering which way Stark Tower was. _Whatever,_ he decided. _It's the flashiest building in the city, anyway. It'll be easy to find._

He looked around the room, realizing that they were out of the restroom already. He found it odd that he never noticed they left the scene. Dissociation, huh. Freaky. He also noticed nearly all the customers had already left, not that Johnny blamed them. They were probably scared out of their minds, being held hostage, and all that. Hell, Johnny was scared out of his mind and he had powers. He couldn't imagine what it would've been like to have had no powers or means to do anything.

Ned was standing by the door, looking pretty distant, like he was in a different universe. He was breathing a little heavily, so Johnny guessed he ran the whole way. Ned glanced up with an expression that Johnny couldn’t quite place. It was like relief, but also exasperation, or something.

“You holding up okay?” Ned asked.

“Not really.” Johnny replied. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t want to lie either. Johnny figured Ned could see that, because he didn’t push.

“Mister Stark says to meet him in his medical bay.”

“Okay.”

They stood in silence.

“Like, right now.”

“Okay.”

“Why aren’t you going, then?”

“I don't wanna go.” Johnny said quietly. “I don’t wanna see Peter.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah.”

"You should go, man."

"Okay."

* * *

Stark Tower from the inside was a lot more than Johnny expected, which said a lot, because Johnny figured there'd be diamonds and stuff. It wasn't exactly like that, but it was still impressive. Everything in the tower seemed to be cutting-edge, like Stark wouldn't settle for less. Which honestly seemed to match up. 

Not the point.

The steady beep of Peter's vitals was the only thing keeping Johnny sane. That Peter wasn't in (immediate) danger. That he was going to be okay. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from Peter’s body. He had a few tubes attached to him for blood replenishment, which Johnny still wasn’t sure as to how he lost so much blood. Peter’s super-healing was working; why didn’t it also take care of his wounds? How did he end up in that position anyway?

Thinking about it just reminded Johnny of the blood. The smell, _god_ , it was stuck in his nose. It was potent, metallic, and dense as hell. The air was just filled with the smell of blood. Peter’s blood. The lady’s blood. 

He could’ve done something. If only he were faster, if only he were smarter, if only he were better, things would’ve been less of a clusterfuck. The lady didn’t deserve that. 

Peter didn’t deserve that.

A woman, presumably the doctor based on her demeanor, walked into the room. She looked like she was in deep thought, staring at her clipboard, then looking at Peter, then looking back. Johnny cleared his throat, which startled her. “Hi, are you the doctor?” He asked.

Recovering from her initial shock, she replied, “Yes, Helen Cho. And who might you be? I wasn’t told visitors were allowed in.” She frowned, seemingly trying to recall. Johnny figured it didn't really matter. Stark probably rigged the tower to kick any unwanted visitors out. He wouldn't be there if he weren't allowed.

“Johnny Storm.” Looking back at Peter, he asked, “What happened? His healing factor should be working, right?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that without clearance.” And she did look sorry. Johnny understood; he didn’t even check with Tony Stark yet. He could be considered trespassing.

“You can tell him, Helen.” Tony Stark strutted in— well, not really, but that wasn't the point. Stark nodded at him in greeting. “Storm.” 

“Mr. Stark.” He nodded back. 

There was a moment of silence before Doctor Cho spoke. “He’s not in life-threatening danger.” Johnny let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. “Not anymore, that is. It’s still not looking good. There seems to be a trace of foreign elements within numerous organs and tissues. His body can’t figure out what to prioritize.” She paused, making eye contact with Johnny. “Do you know what the weapons were made of?”

“Sorry, I don’t. I just know they were made of metal and there were lots of them.” Johnny felt guilty, even though he knew he couldn't have known. It wasn't like they expected him to ask, or something. Unless, they did? It was probably wishful thinking on her part, but still, Johnny felt responsible for not knowing. 

Doctor Cho pursed her lips. “This makes things a little more difficult, but we can adjust. I do not know what substance the metals are composed of, but they seem to be stunting Mr. Parker’s powers. For now, his platelet count is fine, but we need to find out the root cause of his stunted healing to make actual progress.”

Stark sighed, putting a hand on his forehead in thought. “What's the progress on identifying the unknown metal?"

"Not much."

Johnny tuned them out, looking back at Peter's bed. He was laying on the bed with tubes inserted into his skin. He didn't look much better than he did at the McDonalds, which made Johnny feel bad. Johnny should've offered to follow the guys inside. 

Shit, _wait_. The guys. There were three of them.

"Oh god," Johnny realized. Stark never mentioned if they found the third guy or not. Hell, he didn't mention anything about there being one. _That meant,_ "he's still out there."

"Who's still out there?" Stark asked. 

"This one guy, he was there when we first saw them. I have to go after him, sir." Johnny saw Stark and Doctor Cho exchange troubled looks. 

"Well," Stark started. "You've done enough. We'll take care of it." His voice was firm and his gaze was hard, but Johnny didn't relent.

"Take me with you," he pressed, although it did come across a little whiny. "I know what he looks like! You need me!"

"Listen here." The man's demeanor suddenly shifted. He made a sweet smile that looked so eerie, it made Johnny want to shudder, but he didn't want to look weak so he kept up a collected front. "We don't _need_ you to do anything. You and Peter fucked up last time, and we don't _need_ that. Well," Stark's gaze went cold. This was the man who was called the Merchant of Death. This was the man who's killed and killed and _killed_. Stark's eyes reminded Johnny of the truth: he was a powerful man. "Peter didn't do anything. It was you."

_It was you._

He was right. It _was_ Johnny's fault that Peter ended up that way. It _was_ Johnny's fault that the lady was— It _was_ Johnny's fault that things turned out the way they did. "Yeah. I'll— I'll get out of your hair."

Stark probably saw the look on Johnny's face, because his expression eased up a little. "I don't know what exactly you have going on with Peter, but he likes you, for some reason. Get outta here, Storm. You're welcome to visit him anytime." Pausing, he added, "with supervision."

"Don't worry about it, sir. You won't have to see me again. Thanks for allowing me to come." He didn't bother waiting for a reply. Johnny hastily took off, not caring that he just left Peter alone. He figured Peter would be better off without him, anyway. Johnny gets people hurt. That's how it's always been, and that's how it always will be.

Johnny had to admit, though. His exit was dramatic as hell.

* * *

**MJ: You can't hide forever, Storm.**

**Johnny: youre wrong.**

**MJ: Don't underestimate my skills.**

**MJ: I will find you.**

**MJ: Peter woke up. He's been asking about you.**

**Johnny: then tell him.**

**Ned: dude cmon whyd you go??**

**Ned: i thought u wanted to visit him**

**Johnny: its complicated.**

**Gwen: Then uncomplicate it**

**Gwen: If u wanna**

**Johnny: id rather deal with it myself.**

**Ned: :/**

**Ned: you sure bud?**

**MJ: Let him be, Ned. He needs the space.**

* * *

**Peter: Idk what happened**

**Peter: But I rlly hope you come visit**

**Peter: I'm worried**

**Peter: It wasn't your fault**

* * *

**Peter: Are you ok?**

**Peter: You haven't responded and it's been like days and**

**Peter: I hope nothing serious happened**

**Peter: MJ told me you aren't coming over**

**Peter: Did I do something?**

* * *

**Peter: I'm sorry**

* * *

**Gwen: Johnny this isn’t like you**

**Gwen: Peter’s not doing okay**

**Gwen: Please reply, at least.**

* * *

**Peter: I don't know what I did**

**Peter: But I'm sorry I upset you**

**Peter: Or hurt you**

**Peter: I didn't mean to.**

**Peter: I just**

**Peter: Please talk to me, Johnny.**

* * *

**MJ: Johnny Storm.**

**MJ: What are you doing?**

**MJ: Peter doesn't deserve this.**

* * *

MJ was right. Peter _didn't_ deserve this. Peter was an angel, the light of his life, and the absolute reason Johnny continues to go on. Peter deserved the world, not _Johnny_ , a fireball, impulsive and destroys people's lives. _That guy_ was a fuck up, and Peter didnt need that. His very influence was a toxin that nobody needed, and _of course_ Peter was better off without him. But there was a part of him that really just wanted to be selfish, and go back to Peter, apologize, and just, be with him.

The righteous side of him said no. 

Johnny fucked up. He didn't deserve to try again.

It had been days since Peter woke up, Gwen had said. He was doing pretty well with his physical therapy. (The fact that Peter _needed_ physical therapy chalked one up on Johnny's list of regrets.) Johnny never really asked, but he appreciated that Gwen sent him updates on Peter's wellbeing. It made distancing himself easier, knowing that Peter was safe from him without him. 

He heard a hesitant knock on his door. Against his better judgement, Johnny got up to open it, hoping it wasn't Sue or someone.

It was Sue. Or someone. It could've been a skrull for all he knew, but he honestly didn't care.

"Johnny?" God, it was Sue. He knew it sounded weird, but there was something about the way his sister said his name. Something so uniquely _her_. "You haven't been out for days. We're getting worried." The concern in her voice made him feel bad. _Johnny just kept making people upset these days_.

"Sorry," he sighed.

Sue sat next to him, which Johnny was really hoping she wouldn't do. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"About what?"

"What's been bothering you?"

"Don't worry about it."

Sue made a low sound, like she was frustrated. "I'm asking because I _am_ worried about it, Jonathan. Tell me or not, fine, but I just want to _help_ , okay? And I don't know how to do that if you don't talk to us." She got up, leaving just as quickly as she entered. Before she walked out the door, she paused, saying in a lower tone, "We're your family, Johnny. We just don't want you to be so unhappy anymore." With that, she left for real.

There was sincerity in her words, Johnny knew. He wished he reached for her before she went out the door. If he'd talked to Sue, maybe she could like, magic all his fears and regrets away. Could that happen? Maybe Doctor Strange could do it. Sighing, Johnny relented, readying himself to prepare a text to Gwen. Or Ned. Or Peter, even, if he were feeling ballsy. Johnny hated that he couldn't resist himself. Johnny hated that he didn't even know if it was true.

**Ned: pls johnny could you come visit peter hes not doing so hot**

**Johnny: i cant.**

**Ned: OH MY GOD DUDE WHY HAVEN'T U BEEN ANSWERING UR PHONE**

**Johnny: issues.**

**Ned: like, tech?? i cud hlp w dat?? y didnt?? u?? txt????**

**Johnny: no.**

**Johnny: personal.**

**Ned: i cud hlp w dat 2**

**Johnny: anyway, just dropped in to say im not dead yet and im really sorry.**

**Ned: wot**

**Ned: oy 4 d record im not pissed off @ u**

**Ned: in case u needed 2 kno**

**Johnny: might see you soon. i dont know yet.**

**Ned: huh????**

* * *

People were staring at Johnny, and he knew it. He didn't have to look up to notice every eye in the hallway was watching him and his every move. Johnny just felt their pitying gaze, and he just _wished_ they would find something better to do. The school had been understanding about his absence after the McDonalds incident, but the students? Not so much. 

"Johnny, are you okay?"

"Need an ice pack, Storm?"

"Dude, take it easy."

Their concern was all for nothing. Johnny wasn't fragile. He wasn't gonna break at any moment or anything. Well, that's what he hoped, 'cause crying in the middle of class didn't feel like the best course of action, Johnny figured. 

"Johnny?" He was about to snap at whoever called out his name. If someone asks _one more time_ —

"Gwen?" _Shit_. He might not even make it to class without breaking into tears. Gwen was looking at him with something foreign. "What're you doing here?"

Her expression twisted into a slight smile, a little hesitant. "Well, I _do_ go to school." She paused, looking him in the eye. "Unlike you, I tend to be present."

"Low blow. You know I needed time."

Gwen sighed. "Time, time, time." She sang. "See what's become of _him_. Johnny. Actually, no, don't." Wearing a melancholy look on her face, she turned around. "Please, for our sakes, don't sit with us at lunch today. Alright, Johnny? Thanks." Before Johnny could say anything, Gwen walked away. It stung, what she said. Was he not welcome at their table anymore?

It was a horrible feeling.

And Johnny felt like that throughout the whole day. In the classes he shared with Gwen, MJ, or Ned, they had all pointedly ignored his presence. MJ didn't even seem bothered to change seats as soon as he entered English. _Was this how every loner in movies felt like?_ He felt betrayed, even though he knew he wasn't entitled to that. He was the one who turned his back on them. They had every right to be angry at him.

Peter hadn't been in any of their shared classes then, either. It wasn't like Johnny expected Peter to waltz in and sit with him after everything that'd happened. but he figured Peter would at least show up. Was he okay? Did he still need more rest? What if he collapsed in the hallway or something? Johnny's head was flurrying with worry and anxiety.

He only saw Peter at lunch, which was a nightmare of an event. 

The air felt unwelcoming in the cafeteria, like a janitor walking into a board meeting. He felt like everyone was judging anything he did, from the way he walked to the food he had. It was like being naked in class; everything felt so shameful. Johnny tried to avert his gaze from his usual spot, but he couldn't help looking. 

Peter was sitting furthest away from the door, and facing the opposite direction. His their friends sat around him in a protective position, as if they were shielding him from something foul, which Johnny figured he was. Peter didn't seem to sense him approaching, but the others sure did. Gwen sent him a sharp glare, as if trying to wordlessly tell him to _get the fuck away_. Ned couldn't manage a similar look, but he seemed to be trying. Johnny figured Ned would want to know it was working.

Setting himself down on the seat despite the tense atmosphere, Johnny cleared his throat. "Hey, Pete." 

Peter turned to him, levelling Johnny a look. "Oh," His eyes looked clouded, like he was lost in a fog. Johnny had never seen Peter in such a state before; not even when he was at the deepest of lows. _Guess he dug deeper into a depression_. "What're you doing here?"

"I— I figured we could sit together?" Johnny proposed hesitantly. Wrong move. Peter's lost eyes cleared up into something absent of emotion. A blank yet biting look that seemed so unnatural on Peter's face. He didn't reply, or anything. Just gave him a stare.

MJ sighed, mumbling something to herself before speaking. "Don't sit here, Johnny. We need time."

Johnny gave her an incredulous expression, to which she returned the _most intimidating smile Johnny had ever seen_. He had only ever felt a similar level of terror when an old friend had sent him the Boomer Smile Emoji. The most passive aggressive "fuck you" he'd ever seen. 

"Go before we force you to." She said plainly.

"Alright."

There weren't many other tables that were free to take Johnny in, but he saw one by the door with only two people. They seemed to be silent, not really talking to each other, but there was something about them that seemed oddly close. The blonde girl sat next to a skinny looking guy, probably a year below him, if he were to hazard a guess. 

Making eye contact with the guy, Johnny gestured, trying to ask if he could sit down without ruining the moment. The guy, however, had sighed, speaking up. "Johnny Storm, aren't you? We've heard a lot about what happened at the McDonalds. Our condolences."

 _Condolences?_ "I'd rather not talk about that, if you mind." He offered a handshake, which the kid accepted coolly. "Who might you be?"

The guy hesitated, but the girl gave him a look that made him roll his eyes. "I'm Nate." Stopping, he added, "Freshman."

Nate was about to continue before the girl piped up. "I'm Cassie! It's so nice to meet you! I actually have a few classes with you, but you always seemed to stare into space, so I thought you were like, a spaz. Or something. You should really do something about your hair! I mean, nothing wrong with it now, but I have a few ideas on how to make you look _hot as hell_." 

Johnny figured Cassie was probably a really nice girl, albeit a little excitable and tactless. "You wanna do something with my hair?" He smiled slightly. Usually people talked to him about being the Human Torch or famous, so it was… a nice change. 

"Yeah!" She nodded furiously, about to continue, but Nate stopped her.

"Sorry," He said sheepishly. "She's a bit much, sometimes."

Johnny frowned at the notion that Nate was apologizing for Cassie's personality. "She's fine just the way she is, don't you think?" Johnny saw a look of relief wash over his face. Clearly, Nate was relieved that someone finally saw Cassie's eccentric nature as a good trait. 

Seeing the look on Nate's face, Cassie lit up. "You're smiling again! Oh my god, Nate, it's been like, forever since you last did that! Like, elementary school, or something? Dude, this is amazing! Oh, Nate, I'm so proud of you!" With that, she locked Nate in and gave him a noogie. Nate gave her a glare, but the effect was ruined by the mirth in his eyes.

"So," Johnny started hesitantly. "Are you two like, a couple?"

Cassie put a finger to her chin, scrunching up her face in thought, although Johnny didn't understand why she'd have to think about it. "I mean, sorta? I don't really know. What do you think, Nate?"

"Yes."

"Then yes it is!" Cassie smiled brightly, so Johnny grinned back. She seemed to have that certain kind of energy that just _affected_ people. Like a radiant sun. A thousand, splendid suns. 

There was a tingling sensation on Johnny's neck, that he only felt when someone was watching him. Looking around, he set his eyes back on Peter's table. For some reason, both Gwen and Peter were staring at him with a sad look. Did he do something? The idea of hurting either of them made his heart ache with a hard pang. 

They averted their eyes quickly, going back to their meals, but Johnny couldn't get them out of his mind. It wasn't even like they were doing anything, but he still couldn't forget the looks on their faces. Like he betrayed them. Something about that made him both feel horrible and angry, then horrible for being angry. He didn't really have any right to be angry at them, but they didn't have any right to feel betrayed if _they_ were the ones to dump _him_. 

Deciding he didn't want to think about it, Johnny tried to distract himself. "How did you two meet?" He asked Nate. 

"Well," Nate furrowed his eyebrows in recall. "If I remember correctly, she just jumped me, 'cause she was gonna demand that I join her club."

"Hey! I didn't jump you!"

Nate gave her a deadpan stare. "You were hiding behind my locker, then you had me in an armlock until I agreed to hear you out."

Both Johnny and Cassie laughed despite Nate's false indignation. 

"You laugh now, but I'll have you know it was terrifying at the time! I was really scrawny and I thought I was gonna die!"

"'Was', he says." Cassie air-quoted. "Hon, you're still scrawny. Don't lie to yourself."

Nate sighed, but didn't reply, probably knowing he wouldn't win with her. Instead, he turned back to Johnny, asking, "Wanna come with us later? You seem like a pretty cool guy. We're gonna hang out for a bit, maybe hit up the mall."

"Hit up? You make us sound like robbers, Nate!"

" _We_ know we're not, and _he_ knows we're not, so we're fine!" 

"You always say things that make you sound like an evil mastermind!"

"Oh my god, Cassie," Nate threw his arms to the air with a dramatic expression on his face. "I'm not a villain and I never will be one!"

"That's what they all say."

Watching them with amusement, Johnny cut in. "Sorry, I can't." Johnny said. "I have stuff to do later."

"Aww," Cassie pouted. "Can you try? Please?"

"Uh, sure. Give me the details and I'll see if I can make it."

_Stuff can totally wait._

* * *

Stuff does not, cannot, and will not wait for anyone. Johnny wasn't lying when he said he'd see if he could make it, but that fully depended on how seemingly okay he was doing. 

Johnny was a wreck.

As soon as classes ended, he was washed over with a wave of sadness. He couldn't forget the look on Gwen's face, or any of the others. Hell, Johnny didn't think _Ned_ of all people would act like he did. He knew he deserved it, but he _knew_ he didn't. It was conflicting.

To top it all off, he saw Peter again in his last class. Johnny couldn't even bother to pay attention to the teacher; he was too busy staring at Peter's face, trying to memorize everything about him before he stops allowing himself to see Peter again. 

He accidentally made eye contact once. It didn’t happen again.

It hurt, like a knife to his heart. 

And although that had been hours ago, the ache hadn't lessened. Then-currently, Johnny sat at the top of the statue, feeling a sense of resolution he didn't expect. Peter never really needed him in his life, anyway. None of them did. On the statue, he felt _freed_ from the weight of the world, for only a while. Johnny knew he'd have to face the music soon, but he'd rather relish in the moment while he still could.

Peter swinging in completely ruined the vibe, though. He didn't seem to notice Johnny there, which gave him ample time to think of something to say. If he should say anything. _Storm, Peter's right there. Make a move or move away._ He decided to talk. "Did you know the torch of this statue had been replaced once? They put a copper torch with gold wrappings. Twenty-four karat gold." _God, Johnny, way to start a conversation._

Despite the shittiness of his quip, Peter responded, which honestly, was a lot more than Johnny deserved. "I thought fun facts aren't allowed?"

Johnny was shocked, if he were to be honest. Peter seemed out of it, like he wasn't even aware of where he was. His presence of mind was shocking, but Johnny recovered quickly. "They aren't allowed for _you_. But it's fine for me." Johnny attempted a smirk, but he figured it came off a little wobbly. Peter stared at him like he was being an idiot, which was probably true. 

"Okay, cut the shit," Peter sighed. "We're beating around the bush. There's an elephant in the room, and if you're not gonna talk, then I am."

"Alright."

"And you have to let me speak my mind. Don't interrupt me." Peter took a breath.

 _Don't worry about that, Peter, god._ "I have _some_ respect."

"And here you are," Peter drawled, "cutting me off." Pausing, he looked him in the eye. "In more ways than one." It was a painful stare, one that had made Johnny feel really uncomfortable, breaking eye-contact no matter how shitty it made him look.

"Honestly? I didn't know what was going on. Still don't. I woke up from my nap at McDonalds in a hospital room, then you go all MIA on me. And I text and text and text but you never responded, and apparently that was the same thing for everyone else." Peter's face showed a dozen expressions all at once: thunderous, unhappy, confused. There were millions of things Johnny wanted to say, to explain, but he did his best to _shut the hell up_.

"And I get it. You wanted space, or something. But I didn't know why you wanted that, and I couldn't bear to let you deal with something on your own. Then you pushed me away, and I got the message."

"That's not—"

"Let me speak." The look on Peter's face was so withering, it silenced Johnny in fear. He never knew Peter could make him feel so compelled to shut up, but evidently, he could. 

"You had the audacity to ghost me, and I was worried, alright? I thought you got hurt, or something, but I visited your house and your sister said you weren't hurt or anything. You were just ignoring us.”

“And like, it’s not the first time either. Last time you did this, I fucked up big time, okay? After I met your sister, I thought maybe I was the problem. I mean, history repeats itself, or whatever.”

"I just wanted you to be safe!" Johnny burst out. He knew he promised to _shut the hell up_ , but he couldn’t help himself. There were tears running down his face, and he wondered if Peter was gonna point that out.

"I don't need that!" Peter snapped back. His voice went quiet, somber, that moment. "Thing is, I don't need protection." He stood up, pacing along the edge of the statue's surface. "I don't need your saving, from whatever or whoever you think I need to be protected from. I'm strong; I'm capable, and I can handle myself pretty well. The fact that you think I can't is pretty demeaning, y'know?"

"I don't think you can't protect yourself," Johnny mumbled. 

"Mhmm," Peter hummed. "Say that to my face. Tell me you don't think I'm just some damsel in distress. Say, 'Peter, I know you can protect yourself.'" 

Silence.

"That's what I thought," Peter muttered. Johnny knew the look on Peter's face; he's seen it on his own before. It was one of exhaustion. Not really a physically tired feeling, but more of one that's suffocating from all the tension in the room. The type where one could just look in their eyes and feel the utter _weariness_ in them. Sighing, Peter said, "You know what? Look me in the eyes."

Johnny complied.

"I am strong enough." Peter paused, seemingly in thought for a second. "Yeah, I might've had a scare back there, but for the most part, I'm capable, okay? And like, I'm grateful that you care enough to do something. I really do. But you just— you just went in and decided I was better off without you, and that's not fair! That wasn't your call to make!" Breathing in deeply, Peter continued. "You don't have the right to make decisions for me. You don't get to disappear just because you thought it was for the best. You're just assuming things'll turn out, but we don't know for sure, do we?"

Johnny figured he should've replied, but for some reason, Peter was really close to him. He was staring intently too, with a certain fierceness that made Johnny both terrified and oddly turned on. _He's talking to you, Storm. Pay attention._

"I hope you don't do anything like that again." Peter softened. "I don't want to ever go through all that another time," he muttered. "I was so worried, and I like, knew you weren't an ass and there's probably a reason but like, I can't rationalize everything. And I was frightened. Super. You matter so much to me, and it _stings_ that it was so easy for you to cut yourself off from me."

"It wasn't," Johnny cut in. He couldn't help interrupting, because he was _so wrong_ . Distancing himself was the most difficult thing he's ever had to do, and he wasn't even exaggerating. He was honestly surprised with himself, being resilient enough to not go back to Peter immediately a day after. _(The fact that Peter deserved so much better than Johnny probably helped.)_ "You don't know how hard it was to not run back to you."

Despite the serious atmosphere, Johnny couldn't bring himself to stop looking at Peter's face. He noticed Peter was staring back. _Freaky_. 

"I thought about you each day, and I know how cliche that sounds. You were literally the only thing on my mind, and I really wanted to know like, how you were doing and what you were up to and all that. But I couldn't."

"You couldn't?" Peter's voice had dampened into a whisper. 

"Peter, please." Johnny begged. For what, he wasn't exactly sure, but Peter seemed to know.

"Tell me, Johnny. You owe me that much."

He winced. It was a painful jab, but Johnny figured he deserved it. Despite this, he found it difficult to bring himself to say what was on his mind. With an ounce of courage he couldn't have possibly had, he asked, "Do you know what happened after you got knocked out at McDonalds?"

Peter shook his head. "Mr. Stark wouldn't tell me, no matter how much I asked." Just as Johnny was going to make a flimsy excuse to not continue, Peter shut him up with, "I'm guessing this entire thing has to do with that. You know it wasn't your fault, right?"

Johnny let out a harsh, guttural laugh. That sentence was one he kept hearing on the goddamn daily, and he was sick of everyone getting it wrong. "It _is_ my fault. Don't get me wrong, Peter, I'm not pinning the blame on myself just because, okay? There was a woman, and she was looking at me like— like— like I was going to save the day, but I didn't! I couldn't! And it's my fault that— fuck!" Johnny knew the tears that had subsided came back with a newfound force. He could tell his body was starting to steam, as he felt sweat dripping down his skin. He never used to be so out-of-control before, so this was a new feeling to him.

"I could tell by the look in her eyes," Johnny sniffled ungraciously. He probably looked like a disgusting mess, and he felt like one too. "She had so much faith in me and I let her down. I let both of you down."

They were silent for god knows how long. He wasn't sure about what Peter was thinking about, but Johnny couldn't stop himself from spiraling again, and he hated himself so much for allowing it. The moment was supposed to be about _Peter_ , damn it, not Johnny's issues. 

Surprisingly, Peter spoke up. "It's not your fault." He paused, likely searching for the right words. "I mean, I'm so angry at you right now, like, I cannot stress how pissed off I am, but I can still recognize that it isn't your fault. You didn't pull the trigger; you didn't stab me; hell, you didn't hold up the place. You just _happened to be there_ and you tried to stop everything from turning into a shitfest, but it didn't go according to plan. And that's something you have to accept, you get me? The consequences may have been, well, you know, but you _tried your best_. That's way more than what people would expect from anyone."

"How do I know if I tried my best? What if I was secretly holding back?" As soon as the words left Johnny's mouth, he realized how idiotic they sounded. Peter was looking at him with a mix of both amusement and disbelief.

"How do you—" Peter sputtered. "You did your best! That's _so obvious_ , Johnny. God, did you feel like you thought everything through at first?"

"Yes," He admitted.

"Could you ever have predicted what would happen?"

"…No."

"Did you have any influence on the guy's thoughts or choices?"

"No."

"Could you think of anything you could've done afterwards?" Peter probably saw the stricken look on Johnny's face, because he hastily added on, "That doesn't include improving anything about you beforehand."

"No."

Peter looked him in the eye with an exasperated smile on his face. "Then you're fine." His eyes looked blank for a moment, like he realized he had to do something he didn't wanna do, then said, "I should talk to you about why I was so weird around you like, all the time. Like, I don't know if you noticed, but I was such a mess when I was with you. And no matter how uncomfortable this is for me to say, I should still tell you."

 _God, was Peter really implying… that?_ "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to," Johnny interrupted.

"If only it were that simple." Peter started tapping his fingers rhythmically on the rails. Whatever Peter was worried about, Johnny hoped he'd react calmly, instead of freaking out like he did last time. Breaking out of his thoughts, he turned his attention back to what Peter was saying. "It's kinda hard to say it out loud, but like, I guess I should just rip the bandaid off like, right now."

He breathed in and said, "I've been head over heels since the day I first met you."

 _Oh. My. Fucking. Holy crap._ "You're not shitting me?"

Johnny should've been ecstatic. There was a part of him that was so thrilled and was dancing in happiness, but mostly he felt horrible. For some reason, Peter liked him. Peter _liked_ him. And Johnny had been such an asshole over the few weeks and Peter _still liked_ him. How could he like someone like Johnny?

"Why would I ever joke about something like this?" Peter asked, incredulous. "That'd be such a dick move."

"I dunno," Johnny said, feeling a little foolish. "I just— Why?"

Peter took a step forward slowly, speaking in a likewise slow manner. "Because, you are the most selfless, reckless, inspiring person I've ever met. Ever known. You're so determined to prove yourself to the people you love, and you do your _goddamn best_ to defy people's expectations. You rise above, and I'm just— how does someone so amazing exist? That's just off the top of my mind, Johnny. I can write you a whole essay about why you're such a great guy."

 _Holy shit_ . Peter really knew how to make a man blush. Johnny felt so red and warm, like his heart was melting. He didn't expect an actual _answer_ , but it made him feel so… appreciated. Dare he even say— No. Not the L-word. ( _"Yet," his mind supplied._ )

"Also, well, I realized that you didn't say anything, but I don't wanna assume you don't like me back because I _really_ hope you do, but if you don't, could you, erm, shut me down? Quickly?" Peter looked away. "Please?"

"I don't!" Johnny burst out. _Wait_. "I mean, I don't _not like you_. Oh my god, Peter, I've been falling for you for so long, I cannot— Were we just dancing around this thing the whole time? This is so dumb, holy—" Johnny couldn't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity.

"So," Peter smiled, seemingly uncertain. "Where do we go from here? Do you wanna try something?"

It was something Johnny had to take a moment to actually consider. If he hadn't given it thought, Johnny figured he'd probably give an immediate _yes holy shit yes!_ But Johnny was still hurting. _Peter_ was still hurting. And it wouldn't be fair to either of them to start something when they're both still so fucked up.

"I don't think we should." Johnny paused, but hastily continued upon seeing Peter's crestfallen look. “It’s not you, it’s me! Oh god, why did I just say that. Disgusting that it even popped up in my head. Wait I’m getting side tracked.” Breathing in, Johnny said, “We have issues. Like, a lot of them. And I don’t think we should like, start a relationship when we’re really messed up and stuff. I like you. I _really_ like you, but we have to sort shit out to start some shit. You dig me?”

“Who says ‘dig’ nowadays?”

They both laughed. Peter had a point, _no one says that anymore_. They stood there, smiling at each other. Johnny couldn’t say for sure what Peter was thinking about, but he was just relieved. He didn’t have to keep his feelings a secret, and now it was out in the open, and Peter likes him too ( _HOLY SHIT)._ It was more than he could ever ask for, and more than he would ever have expected. 

Breaking the moment of silence, Peter asked, “Can I hug you?” 

_Oh._

“I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s fine! I just really wanna be like, I dunno but—”

Johnny embraced him with no warning, cutting him off. It’d been so long since Johnny last hugged someone. Something about Peter was so awesome, ‘cause Johnny had never felt a hug so _special_ before. It was warm, and felt so natural that Johnny wished they would never have to pull apart.

He wondered if other people confess their feelings the same way: a vent-heavy heart-to-heart on the Statue of Liberty.

 _Probably not_. 

It was _their_ thing, and _their thing only_.

* * *

"You realize you still have to apologize to Gwen and the others, right?"

"…Yes."

* * *

Johnny stared at the entrance of Baxter Building with a hesitant feeling weighing on his stomach. He really didn’t want to have to explain his behavior to any of the Fantastic Four, especially Sue. But he promised Peter before they parted ways that he’d confront them. 

By the elevators, he saw Sue pacing around. Why she was in the lobby rather than the living area, he didn’t know, but he walked towards her while he still had the balls to act. 

Sue turned her head towards him with timing so incredible it made Johnny question the extent of Sue’s abilities and if she developed new powers. “Oh my god, Johnny, I’ve been so worried!” 

Johnny didn’t get why she’d be worried, especially for _him_ , a nearly-grown man with superpowers. “I can take care of myself,” he mumbled.

“I know,” She said. “But you just left and you didn’t tell us and god knows how many superheroes have been kidnapped before, and I know you’re strong enough to avoid that but even _Tony Stark_ has been kidnapped, you know? I just— I don’t want that to ever happen to you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Tell me when you go out.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me where you’re going when you go out.”

“Okay.”

“Keep your phone’s location on all the time.”

“Wait,” Johnny squinted. “You track that?”

Sue’s ‘innocent’ smirk was an answer in itself.

“Just, I love you, Johnny. And we’re the only family we’ve got. I don’t want to screw things up with you, but you know I just want what’s best for you, right? I know you don’t really like me, but I just hope you’ll at least ease my mind, ‘cause I still think of you as my baby brother. It’s not really a good perspective, I know, but sometimes I’m just set in like, Protective-Big-Sister mode. But like, yeah.” Sue looked him in the eye with a disarming stare, full of raw emotion. “Talk to me? Please?”

“Wh— Wait—” Johnny sputtered. “I don’t hate you!”

The look of relief on Sue’s face spoke a lot about how Johnny’s been acting towards her. He thought it’d been obvious that if anything, he _loves_ her. She just gets a little bit annoying at times. But clearly, if _Sue herself_ thought that, what did the rest of the Fantastic Four think?

“I’m glad to hear that.” Sue said, tearing up a little. _Oh no._ “I don’t like when we’re not being okay.”

“I don’t like it either.” Johnny figured the day had been a huge step in things he wouldn’t usually do, so he offered her a hug. Sue smiled, falling into his arms with a shaky breath. 

“Sue?”

“Yeah?”

“I know this isn’t exactly the best time, but can I go out with some friends next week?”

“Whatever you want, Johnny.”

“My boyfriend will be there.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

_Pause._

“Wait, boyfriend?”

* * *

Thankfully, Nate and Cassie didn’t choose the same mall Johnny went to last time. Unfortunately, it was super out of the way from his place. All the way in Queens.

“This is nice,” Cassie decided. 

“God, Cassie, way to sound awkward as hell.”

She fumed. “Don’t clown me, Johnny, or I won’t pay for your food!”

“Hmm,” Johnny mused, raising an eyebrow. “Is this threat really effective on a rich white boy?”

“Stop it!” She whined. She turned her head towards Nate, who leveled a stare at Johnny. He really knew how to intimidate people, even with his short frame. It was withering, just a little. Johnny wilted at Nate’s heavy stare.

Nate glared a little more, prompting Johnny to say, “Sorry.”

The air was awkward, as Cassie brushed it off but Nate huffed and turned away. To make things even weirder, Johnny started whistling, taking in their surroundings. _Whistling is the most awkward “I-don’t-know-_ _what-to-do” kinda shit, Johnny_. They had a clear view of the streets, as they sat by the window seat. Staring out the window, he noted how there were few people walking by. Probably because it was ass o’ clock in the morning.

Unbeknownst to Cassie and Nate, Johnny was actually waiting for someone. Well, some people. With a little scheming between Johnny and Peter, they figured out a way for Johnny to meet up with Gwen and MJ without actively going out of his way to seek them out.

And if scheming technically violated that, no one heard him say it out loud anyway.

Spotting Peter’s mess of a hair in the distance, Johnny prepared himself for what was about to come. He promised them space, but he needed them to know how sorry he was, and it didn’t feel right to just text them. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Why, MJ, I’m just hanging out with friends. Is that so wrong, nowadays?” Johnny drawled. He sounded like a weirdo, but it didn’t really matter. Cassie looked at him with a mix of intrigue and glee, like she was watching some shit go down. 

Johnny bet they looked like they were about to have a bitch-fight.

Nate, however, was looking at them like he wanted to get the fuck outta the place. Johnny couldn’t blame him; he also wished he could. Taking a deep breath— he seemed to be doing that a lot— he spoke up before MJ could turn around. “Wait.”

She didn’t acknowledge him other than to pause as she walked. 

“I messed up.” _A great start._ “You guys were just trying to see if I was alright, but I shut you out. That wasn’t fair for me to do that, and even though I was still hurting, it isn’t and should never be an excuse to cut you off like that. I’m so sorry. I can’t stress how sorry I am, and I’d do _anything_ to show that.”

MJ was quiet for a moment, only saying one word in response.

“ _Anything?_ ”

“Anything within reason,” he amended.

She nodded in approval. “Only promise things you’re likely to follow through with.”

The anxiety pooling in Johnny’s stomach eased up a little. “I’m so sorry, MJ.” Offering a hug, which was something he also seemed to be doing a lot, he silently hoped she’d take it as an apology. 

Once he felt MJ pulling close into his arms, he knew things would be okay with her.

“Where’s my apology?”

 _Holy shit, Gwen sounded angry_.

Gwen wasn’t the type to explode when she got furious. Instead, she was a boiling pool of ice, cold bitterness. Her tone betrayed nothing, but her face spelled murder. Johnny gulped as he prepared to face such a frightening woman. “Gwen, I’m sorry.”

She hummed, sounding out her disbelief. “Certainly, Johnathan.”

“No, really,” Johnny didn’t know how he could ever show it, but he wracked his brain for anything he could say to convince her. “You deserve better. You’ve helped me through so much shit over the few weeks and I was such an asshole when you just wanted to check up on me. It was a dick move, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry. It’s not even about how I treated Peter; I hurt you. And I will try to make up for it the best I can, but I can only show you how sorry I am.”

The silence that followed aired in a tension that made Johnny feel really uncomfortable, but he stood his ground. Although, he saw Nate excuse himself to go to the restroom, and he wished he could do the same. 

“I cried, did you know that?” Gwen’s voice trembled as she spoke, and it was a heartbreaking sound. Johnny wished there was something he could do, but he let her speak. It was the least he could do. “I know you were hurting, but I was just trying to make sure you were okay. And you fucking ghosted me and I was worried that you got super hurt or something but I asked your sister about it and it turned out that you were just ignoring me. Ignoring us. And that fucking sucks and I’m still upset with you.”

Johnny noticed how the others had turned their attention away from the two of them, likely to attempt giving them an illusion of privacy. 

“It hurt, and it still hurts, but I know it sucked for you too. And I’m not quite ready to forgive you just yet, but… this isn’t a deal-breaker.”

If Johnny could sigh in relief, he would, but all he did was give a small nod. He wasn’t expecting anything, anyway. Gwen turned her attention towards Cassie and Nate, breaking the awkward atmosphere. 

“I don’t think Johnny’s introduced us. Hi, I’m Gwen.” She offered a handshake, which Cassie took with a smile on her face.

“Hi! I’m Cassie! You saw my boyfriend awhile ago before he pussied outta here, but that was Nate.”

“I didn’t pussy out!” 

“Mhmm, sure thing, babe.” 

From there, the conversation devolved into a get-to-know party between Cassie and Nate and the Round Table. Johnny mentally noted to apologize for crashing their date, but that could wait. Johnny looked around, catching Peter’s eye. _Outside?_ They seemed to ask.

Johnny gave a small nod in response. Hopefully nobody would notice that they were gone. Considering how Cassie was animatedly talking to Gwen about some drama, he figured things would be fine. 

Once they made it outside and were sure they were alone, Johnny looked at Peter, finally _seeing_ how he looked. Peter looked _stunningly_ casual and cute as hell. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim lighting. He realized they were in an alley. A very dark alley.

“So.” 

“So,” Peter breathed.

“We’re in an alley.” Johnny smirked.

Peter sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s a _narrow road_ , not an alley. For the last time, Johnny, I swear—”

“You look cute.”

Taken aback, Peter mumbled incoherently before stuttering out, “You look hot as fuck.”

“Well,” Johnny drawled. “I _am_ the Human Torch.”

Peter giggled, then they were left in silence once again. Johnny listened around, hearing the faint hum of the appliances inside and the sound of a radio.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.”

As Johnny kissed Peter like there’s no tomorrow, he listened to the song playing out loud, noting how the lyrics were somehow really on point with all the shit that'd gone down the past few weeks. Pulling away for a moment, despite hearing Peter’s slight whine, he said, “You know, I think this is our song.”

“Is it now?” Peter hummed. He listened in, then nodded in agreement. “It’s so weird, yeah. This is really our song.”

“You know how we’re in a really dark alley?”

“Mhmm.”

“Wanna do what couples do in dark alleys?”

“Oh my god.”

* * *

_the day i first met you_

_you told me you’d never fall in love_

_but now that i get you_

_i know fear is what it really was_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for being here and reading this  
> it’s been a wild ride and i’ve loved writing every word of this  
> i hope you enjoyed!! if you liked it pls consider leaving kudos or a comment! comments make my day and i love hearing your reactions like omg shit ily  
> i also wanna hear any like, criticism you might have bc there's smth abt my writing that makes me feel weird and i want improvement  
> there WILL be a cont to this, titled how deep is your love?. includes more characters!! more drama!! and most importantly, more wholesome!!!!


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